


What a Hell of a Day to Embrace Disorder

by L_O_S_T



Category: The Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: ASL, Alternate Universe, Angst, David is a little bit softer, David is deaf in this, Deaf Character, Dwayne is smug, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Lots of Angst, M/M, Marko and Paul are just high and having fun, Michael is a himbo, Michael learns sign language, SO MUCH FLUFF, Vampires, deaf David, he was born deaf, is this too much fluff for a vampire story, michael is soft, rated for later chapters, so when turned into a vampire he stayed deaf, the answer is no, there will be more, vampire typical violence, who is Jessica?!?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_O_S_T/pseuds/L_O_S_T
Summary: “Do you know sign language, Michael?”The question came out of Dwayne’s mouth, but Michael was more focused on the smoke billowing out of David’s lips. He quickly glances over at Dwayne’s smug, smirking face.“Can you teach me?”
Relationships: David/Michael Emerson (Lost Boys), Marko/Paul (Lost Boys)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 85





	1. As He Takes From Me My Last Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> This is my first EVER fanfic... EVER. Please be nice! 
> 
> Lost Boys is my favorite movie in the entire world and my OTP has been David/Michael for as long as I can remember. I really hope I got everyone’s personalities right (hello himbo Michael). I’m aware I made David a little bit softer in this but, hey, my AU, my rules! It think it’s cute! (Insert “I just think they’re neat” meme) 
> 
> I wanna give a special thanks to my beta, @This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username .  
> Thank you for being so awesome, funny, and a really good friend! 
> 
> Title of my fic comes from my favorite song “Dark All Day” by Gunship! I’ll probably name the chapters after lyrics too because I’m so original.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you’ll stay on this journey with me, and like my story as I write it! I’ve got a vague plan of how I want it to go, but suggestions are always welcome! 
> 
> Love you guys,  
> Danny 💜

Michael can’t believe this.

His life has been uprooted and turned on its head before he could protest anything. That doesn’t stop him from protesting the entire trip from Phoenix to Santa Carla, though. He doesn’t want to leave all of his friends and new girlfriend back in Arizona, when he could be spending the summer playing football and smoking weed in the old dugouts of the baseball field with them.

The only real upside to any of this would have to be getting away from his piece of shit dad. The drunk broke the last straw when he hit Sam the last day they were there, and before Michael could say ‘daddy issues’, they were packing everything up into his mom's old car and heading out on a journey to their grandpa’s house in California.

Michael had only met the old man once or twice at family Christmas’s, and even then he can’t remember his own grandfather’s name. All he can really remember is that the man is ecstatic to know that his daughter is finally leaving the sorry excuse for a husband, and finally coming home. Michael can’t blame him for being happy. Steve had always been an ugly stain that hit his wife and kids, so he guesses it was a good thing they were leaving, but California? C’mon!

Michael sighs for what feels like the fifth time in the last five minutes. He watches his little brother scan the same row of comic books that he’s been staring at for at least half an hour. How many times could someone look at Superman before it got boring?

“Isn’t there somewhere else you’d like to look at before, you know, the whole boardwalk closes, Sammy?” Michael sighs. His feet hurt, and he’s so done with having to stand there while the two creepy kids who obviously work there glare him down. The owners look pretty hazed out as he watches them sleep, leaning against one another behind the counter.

Sam snorts. “What? Are you ready to crawl back into your cave and sleep another day and a half?”

He goes back to looking at his comics and actually picking some of them up to look through them. A rough voice makes them both look up, startled, to see one of the boys with the death glare staring daggers at them.

“I wouldn’t joke about that around here…” the one with the headband gruffs. “I’m Edgar and this is Alan,” he says while jabbing his thumb at him and his brother. “We own the place, but it’s just our cover. We’re dedicated to higher purpose-“ the smellier boy drones on. Michael cuts out after that, having to step back a few paces to get away from Edgar’s stench.

Sam is, of course, hanging onto every word the brothers say, absolutely eating it up. Michael knows he’ll have to think of something to get out of listening to, and smelling, the brothers. He nods along to whatever they’re saying about some new comic about vampires, and pats Sam on the shoulder.

“I’m gonna head out. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up, so be here, okay?” He gives his brother a look that says ‘I’ll kick your ass if you’re gone’.

Sam waves him off, “Yeah, sure, whatever,” and goes back to asking the smelly brothers about silver bullets and stakes. Michael just shakes his head. At least he’ll have a chance to jump scare the squirt later at home when he least expects it.

Michael makes his way out of the open front of the comic shop and into the crowded area of the boardwalk, not pushing anyone out of the way but not being pushed either. He’s never seen so many people in one place at the same time before! And the lights! He makes sure not to stop every few steps to gawk, but it’s challenging not to as the shouts and screams from the rides make him want to freeze in his tracks and look. He has to hand it to Santa Carla, they really know how to party here.

He wants to try one of the burger places that advertises a sandwich bigger than your face, but a neon sign catches his attention with its flashing words that read ‘Max’s Video Store’ in horrendous red lights. He thinks back to what his grandpa said, once they moved some of their stuff into the older log house. He asked the older man about a television, only for the man to respond, “Don’t got one, don’t need one,” and then something about the TV guides and not bending the corners.

Michael peers into the large windows at the front of the store, seeing an abundance of new and used televisions and VHS’s for sale. He chews on the inside of his lip for a second.

“It couldn’t hurt just to check prices…” he thinks to himself. “Maybe I could find a job, too.” He peers down at the ‘help wanted’ sign with a resigned look on his face, not really wanting to work in retail, but hoping it might pay more than the other jobs he’s seen while walking the boardwalk. He sighs quietly.

“Here goes nothing…” he mutters under his breath as he opens the glass door to the front of the store.

He’s instantly greeted by a young girl behind the counter with a name tag that reads ‘Maria’, her bright smile calming his nerves a little as he tries to muster up the old Michael from Phoenix who knew how to flirt with the ladies. He gives her an easy half-smile.

“New in town, looking for a new set up,” he gestures to the TVs in the back, “came to look at prices.”

Maria beams at him. “Oh! A newbie!” She chuckles and goes back to stacking her tapes in the returned pile. “Be careful, newbie, folks like you go missing around here all the time.” She smiles to make the ominous statement seem lighthearted, “If you need any help with the TVs, just let me know!”

She’s just a tad too much on the chipper side for Michael to actually trust her, but what she said still scratches at his mind like an aggravated cat. He tries to shrug it off as he walks back to the television set section of the store, weaving through the large but crowded area of the main floor.

There’s only a few other people looking at the televisions, so he counts himself as lucky as he looks at the prices for the smaller sets. He blanches just a bit when he realizes just how much a tv costs and that he’ll definitely have to save up before buying one, which means he’ll have to find a job that actually pays at least minimum wage and—

“Yeah, they have some seriously shitty prices here, dude.” Michael almost jumps out of his skin as a man about his age slides up to him without Michael even sensing he was there. The guy has a serious case of the rocker hair going on and since he’s way into Michael's personal bubble, he can definitely smell Ferra Fawcett hair spray all over the blond.

“Uhh…” Michael says eloquently as he tries to figure out why this guy is even talking to him. Michael looks nothing like who this guy would usually hang out with. Maybe he’s looking for some drugs? Does Michael look like a drug dealer?

Thankfully, he’s brought out of his thoughts by the overly teased blond again. “They probably have better prices at that Blockbuster in the next town over!” He smiles brightly like him and Michael have been friends since childhood, like he knows Michael. It’s a little unnerving when he looks over at Michael and asks, “You new here?” like he already knows that Michael just came into town today. Like he knows that Michael is just some sad teenager that is looking for friendship in a new and scary place.

He’s almost glad that the store owner overheard the loud blond and came stomping over to glare at them both.

He looks absolutely livid when he glares down at the hyper guy who decided he would choose Michael as a conversation partner. Michael would almost feel bad for the guy, if he wasn’t beaming up at the taller man with intoxicated eyes and a dopey smile.

“Chill, Max,” the rocker said in an easy tone, “I’m just trying to boost profits here—“

The store owner, Max, doesn’t give him time to explain himself, “How many times do I have to tell you, this is not a playground. I don’t want you or your friends here, so take them and get out.”

Michael could’ve sworn he saw the older man’s eyes flash a different color, but maybe he’s just getting contact high from being so close to the intoxicated blond beside him.

“Uh, sir, I’m not his—“ an arm is thrown over his shoulders before he can get the whole statement out, and he’s led to the front of the store by the metal head. He vaguely hears Max calling after them but he’s drowned out by the loud man leading him out the door.

“I’ll make sure everyone knows where to get their tapes, Max!” the blond yells back at the store owner, who literally growls out a reply of “don’t even think about coming back here” before going back to what he was doing before.

Once they’re outside, the rambunctious blond releases him to pluck a joint from behind his own ear and lights it.

“He’s such a killjoy-“ the blond starts, then looks at Michael with said joint dangling between his lips, “I’m Paul by the way.” He holds his hand out for Michael to shake but the brunet, not trusting this new person that might’ve just cheated him out of a job, shakes his head at Paul.

“I— I should really be getting back to my little brother..” Michael stammers out. He feels weirdly bad for not shaking the guy's hand, but sue him for being scared of falling in with the wrong crowd. And this guy definitely looks like he’s in with the wrong people, by the way he’s dressed all the way to how he’s holding himself, like he could take Michael in a fight if need be, smug and confident.

Paul looks at him a little strangely, but doesn’t push Michael to shake his hand. He does however take a long drag from his joint and blow a smoke ring right over Michael’s shoulder. Michael is a little confused as to why he would do that, until he hears hacking behind him and a wheezed out, “Why would you do that?”

Michael turns around to see a curly haired blond teen doubled over, coughing up a lung as he’s obviously the one who got the face full of smoke. The younger looking teen blinks his watery eyes up at Paul, who is laughing his ass off at the display.

“You know I have asthma, asshole!” curly says. Paul just laughs harder and slaps the younger teen on the back a little too hard.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar, Marko! Tell me, when did you start having breathing problems? Before or after the trauma to your head?”

Marko just looks confused. “What trauma— ow!”

He rubs at the back of his head where Paul whacked him. Paul smirks down at the shorter blonde teen, “Stop lying or you’ll go to Hell, moron.”

Marko rolls his eyes, “See ya there, bastard.”

Michael backs away slowly as he tries to get out of this situation. People are staring at the two teens in front of him like they’re scared of them, so Michael acts on instinct and stammers out, “I really gotta go guys, Sam’s probably worried and— “

“There you two are. I thought we said we’d meet up at the haunted house?” A voice from behind Michael makes him stop in his tracks.

“There’s more of them?” Michael slowly turns in the general direction of where the voice came from, and prays to a god that he doesn’t believe in that these guys will just let him leave with his life and wallet intact.

He comes face to face with a tall, native American man that looks as if he could tear Michael’s head off if he so desired. Michael tries to swallow down his fear as he stands his ground and takes in the man’s appearance, a black leather jacket with what looks to be a hand painted leopard on the ripped right sleeve, no shirt, and ripped black jeans that look like they’ve had better days. Michael knows he needs to get out of there, get away from these guys, but when he opens his mouth to tell them off, the words die in his throat, mouth suddenly dry as yet another boy around his age saunters around the brick house of a man.

This guy, now this guy, Michael thinks he might be able to take in a fight, being taller and somewhat more muscular than this new bleach blonde. His hair is neatly styled in an almost glowing white mullet, the back of his hair falling over his shoulders. It contrasts well with the rest of his all black attire, his dark coat almost reaches the ground as he stands beside the taller teen, smoking and checking out some girl that passed by.

Michael doesn’t like the way these guys are surrounding him, almost like they don’t even know they’re doing it. He vaguely thinks that they remind him of a pack of wolves, closing in on their prey. He also has a fleeting thought that maybe if he could get back inside the more populated video store, he might have a chance at not getting mugged tonight.

“Who’s this?” big, tall, and scary asks Paul, who is apparently searching deep in his coat pockets for another joint. The taller teen crosses his arms over his chest and gives Michael a judgmental look, as if sizing him up to see if he’s cool enough to even be seen with them.

Paul looks up, albeit a little blearily as the drugs are taking effect in his blood system, he grins toothily at the bigger man and throws an arm around Michael’s shoulders once again. “This is my new pal..uh..” he trails off, still grinning, as he nudges Michael with his hip.

“Michael… my name’s Michael,” Michael grits out. He’s coiled tight, ready for a fight as the others close in to form a small circle around him. He’s ready for one of them, probably the one in the leather jacket, to take the first swing, his hands fisted at his sides. Michael isn’t proud of his track record with fighting back in Phoenix, but damn if he isn’t going to back down from these guys on his first day in this new town. He sends a silent apology to his mother as he widens his stance…

But the fists and kicks never come.

“I’m Dwayne.” The tan brick house makes a fist for Michael to bump with his own. “Sorry you had to meet Paul and Marko first, we try not to let them out very often.” Dwayne gives the two hyper blonds a look that makes them both whine.

Paul pushes Marko harshly in the shoulder, “Marko started it!” and quickly dodges the swing the smaller teen almost surprises him with.

Michael looks between all of the other boys, nodding as they smile at him, all except for the guy with the mullet. He admittedly feels a little more at ease now that they’re acting a bit more chill around him, he looks back over his shoulder to see that throughout his turmoil, they had all moved away from the video store and are now closer to the empty concert stage. He turns his attention back to Dwayne.

“Okay, Dwayne, Paul, Marko, and…” he looks expectantly at the mullet guy again.

Dwayne looks over at Michael when he trailed off from the sentence, to see the other brunette staring intently at the side of his friend’s head.

“That’s David.” He smirks as Michael turns his eyes back to him. “Don’t piss him off and you’ll be good.” He chuckles at Michael’s confused eyebrow quirk and shrugs, “I’m just saying, I’d hate to see you get your ass handed to you.” He outright laughs when Michael furrows his brow.

David glances over at them, meeting Michael’s gaze before quickly averting his own and pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear. He lights it, and looks off at the dwindling crowds leaving the boardwalk walking in the opposite direction of the way they’re headed.

Michael feels a little at a loss when David glances away, kind of missing the way his icy blue eyes lingered on his own ocean blue ones.

“ _God, I really need to get a girlfriend…_ ” he thinks to himself as he’s led to the concrete stairs leading down to the sandy beach underneath them. “Where are we going?” he asks a little warily, still a little afraid that they’re just leading him out here to steal his wallet, find that it’s empty, then stab him.

Marko grins and points to a bonfire not too far out, near where the waves are lapping at the shore. “We thought we’d have some fun tonight. Summer’s almost over and all, so why not say goodbye to it with a little party?”

He whoops and hollers with Paul as they break off into a run toward the fire.

Michael looks to Dwayne and David, who are still walking at a calm pace with him across the lumpy, cool sand. “Why am I here though? Shouldn’t you want to party with your friends?” Michael just doesn’t get it, why is he even there?

Dwayne shares a look with David for a few moments before turning back to Michael. “You looked lonely. Thought you could use a good welcome party to good ole Santa Carla, with you being new here and all.”

Dwayne smiles and continues walking, nonchalant, while Michael blinks and tries to recall when he let Dwayne in on that bit of information. Before he can ask, however, Dwayne turns to him right before they get to the bonfire, quirking an eyebrow at Michael. “Besides, don’t you want friends?” He smirks and turns away, going to sit beside a drunk girl on a makeshift log seat in front of the fire.

Michael can’t deny that he would like to be friends with them, I mean, who wouldn’t? They’re cool, and people get out of their way on the boardwalk. It’s like they’re some kind of.. gods among men here.

Michael checks his watch, he’s still got at least twenty minutes before he needs to get Sam and head home. He hesitates only for a few seconds, Paul laughing and waving him over is the only thing that changes his mind from leaving to staying. He quietly sighs before heading over and plopping down in between Paul and David on a piece of large driftwood. He smiles a little bit easier when Paul offers him a beer, which he takes, and a joint, which he declines with a small wave of his hand.

“Your loss, dude,” the rocker says with a small shrug, popping the rolled up joint in his mouth and letting the girl beside him light it. Paul grins at her, looking her straight in the eyes as he mumbles a husky, “Thanks, babe” before blowing the smoke slowly out his nose like some kind of poofy haired dragon.

The girl giggles and takes a swig of her own beer, way more intoxicated than Michael first thought. She sways and leans against Paul as he throws an arm over her shoulders, seeming to pull her even closer to his side. Michael thinks he sees something flash in Paul’s eyes for a split second, but just as he leans closer to see, David grunts and the brunette boy’s attention is immediately on him.

David seems distracted, like he’s not really enjoying the party like the other boys. He still drinks his fill of beer from the cooler sitting near Dwayne, but his mind doesn’t seem to be there as he looks into the crackling, orange bonfire before him. Michael has the sudden urge to ask him if he’s okay, wants to know if there’s anything he could do to help the bleach blond. Would that be weird? Asking someone if they’re okay even though you’ve only known them for under an hour?

Michael decides to go for it.

“Hey, man, are you good?” Michael asks David, concerned. David continues to look into the fire, maybe even a bit sad now that Michael is paying attention. Michael tries again, “You’re not thinking about jumping in, are you?” he tries, trying to lighten the mood and chuckles a bit.

David still doesn’t respond, getting up to go smoke outside their little circle. Michael blinks at him, confused as to why the other boy is ignoring him when all he wanted to do was help. He turns back to the bonfire chewing on the inside of his lip, thinking to himself, “ _What did I do? Did I say something earlier that might’ve upset him? God.. I’m so bad at making friends…”._

Marko grins at him from across the fire, in between two drunken girls who are giggling to each other. He looks at Michael like he just heard his thoughts, it’s kind of creepy. Marko leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, “What’s wrong, Mikey?” he asks, voice almost taunting. Michael isn’t sure why, but thinks that the curly haired teen might be making fun of him. He tries not to scowl at Marko, but it’s hard not to as the little bastard starts laughing. Dwayne looks over from where he’s kneeling in front of the cooler of beer, quickly figuring out Michael’s little problem.

“Don’t take it personally, Michael, he—“ Dwayne is interrupted by Paul, who, by now, is laying on the sand between two pieces of driftwood.

“Yeah, man,” his words slur together, “he doesn’t talk to anyone…” That must be an inside joke known only to Paul and Marko, as they burst out laughing, looking over to where David has his back turned toward the group.

Dwayne gives the two blonds a sharp look, “Shut up, you two.” He looks back to Michael, his expression softening the tiniest bit, “He talks, just not like you and me. He uses ASL…” Dwayne gives Michael an expectant look, but when the other brunet doesn’t say anything, looking confused, he sighs and rolls his eyes, “David is deaf, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes widen comically, realization washing over him like a cold shower, “I’m such an asshole..” he mutters to himself, but is sure Dwayne heard him when the black haired man smirks.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Dwayne tells him, even though his smirk is smug and condescending. “Do you know sign language, Michael?”

Michael looks away, acting like his beer bottle is the most interesting thing in the world, “I learned some basics in high school.” He looks so dejected, like he just learned that his cat was run over by an eighteen wheeler. Dwayne was definitely planning on torturing the boy, but seeing his big, sad puppy dog eyes and slumped shoulders makes him choose another route.

“I could, uh, teach you more. I mean, if you’d still want to hang around us.” He takes a swig of his now lukewarm beer, looking away, now feeling like he’s the one who should feel embarrassed for some reason.

Michael’s eyes seem to light up like the sun, but he tries to turn it down a notch when he sees Dwayne side eye him with a knowing look. “Yeah!” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean, yeah, if you wouldn’t mind…” He purses his lips and looks away, a light blush spreading down from his cheeks to his neck.

Dwayne follows the flush down to the collar of Michael’s shirt with his eyes, noticing the boy’s pulse picking up. He smirks, knowing exactly who’s creating this reaction in the human. “I wouldn’t mind in the slightest, Michael.”

“Michael! There you are!” Dwayne turns his head in the direction the shrill, cracked voice comes from. He noticed a little while ago that another heartbeat was wondering their way, but didn’t pay much attention to it since David called their feeding last minute.

Michael looks up as well, but with a slight glare. “Sam? What’re you doing here?” He stands as his little brother comes around his side of the fire. “I thought you were hanging out with those weird smelling kids back at the comic shop?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago, Mike!” His voice cracks again as he yells at his brother. “You were supposed to come get me and drive us home!” Sam places his hands on his hips and huffs at Michael just like their mother would do. “Besides, they don’t smell as bad as your new friends do.”

Michael glares harder at Sam, vaguely seeing Paul in his peripheral vision sniffing at his own armpit self consciously. “Can’t mom come get you or something?” He can feel the other boys’ eyes on him as they all get quiet, listening in on their conversation.

Sam glares over Michael’s shoulder at the other guys, before turning his gaze on his older brother, “No, Michael, she can’t. You’d know why if you’d actually listen once in a while.” His voice is getting angrier by the second. “She’s helping grandpa around the house tonight. Anyway, I don’t think you actually want me to tell mom that you abandoned me, do you?”

Michael’s mouth falls open at the audacity.

Paul whistles, “That kid has balls!” He giggles as he brings his beer bottle up to his lips, pouting when he finds it empty.

Marko laughs and chunks a full beer at Paul’s head, “Totally, man! Your kid brother is gonna blackmail you!” He laughs even more, bending in half as he points at Michael.

By now, David has come back and has sat down beside Dwayne in front of the dwindling bonfire. Michael can feel his icy gaze on him, and wants Sam to just go away. He wishes that he had just a little bit more time with these guys, really wants to get to know David.

Dwayne, once again, decides to take pity on him.

“Go take your brother home, Mike. We can hang out some other time. We’re always on the boardwalk, so no sweat there.” He smirks again, so smug, and steals the cigarette behind David’s ear. David glares at Dwayne but doesn’t snatch it back. He instead makes a few signs with his gloved hands in quick succession. Michael doesn’t know exactly what he said in ASL, but it’s pretty obvious that he’s telling Dwayne off.

Dwayne chuckles and lights the cancer stick for himself, speaking around it as it dangles from his lips, “Or we can always find you.”

“Oh, no! You are not getting our address.” Sam points an accusing finger at them, “I know the kind of people Michael likes to hang around! I’ve made that mistake before, I won’t do it again!”

“Sam?” Michael asks to get his little brother’s attention, “Shut the hell up.” He takes Sam by the shirt sleeve and pulls him away from his potential new friends. “I’ll see you guys later.” He nods at them in a short goodbye, smiling just a little at David when the bleach blond boy looks his way.

“See ya, Mikey!” Paul yells from his place near the dying fire, now sitting beside Marko.

The curly haired teen does a little finger wiggle wave and giggles at Michael, “Yeah, see ya!” He immediately goes back to smoking a badly wrapped joint while he kicks Paul’s sand castle over, earning him a hard slap across his shin.

Michael huffs out a small laugh at their antics, shoving Sam in the direction of the boardwalk stairs. As they make their way to the wooden behemoth, Michael totally ignoring Sam’s yelling and complaining, he can’t help but think about how David smiled back at him before he turned to leave.

“ _Maybe I’m not so bad at making friends…_ ”


	2. It Is Dark All Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the hell, Sam?!” 
> 
> “Mike, I just wanted to help—“
> 
> Michael and Sam have an argument.   
> Michael remembers things he really wishes he could forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael centric chapter today, guys! Sorry for such a short chapter? But I’ve got SO much planned for the rest of the story and I hope you love everything!   
> ~Danny

Michael is glad that his bike is loud for once as he and Sam make their way back home. Sam hasn’t shut up the entire time since they left the bonfire, going on about how Michael shouldn’t fall into his old ways or some shit. Michael just lets the roar of his engine drown Sam out. He even revs up his older motorcycle a little more than usual, just so Sam shrieks in terror instead of complaining about his choice in friends.

When the ancient looking log house comes into view, after traveling up the almost mile long driveway, Michael breathes a sigh of relief. He’s so ready to get Sam away from him, and get back to his Walkman upstairs in his room. His quiet room, where no one can tell him what to do. Where he can lay down and think about what happened tonight. 

Where he can let his mind wander to the mysterious bleach blond with the piercing blue eyes.

“Michael! Are you even listening to me?” his imp of a brother yells into his ear as Michael parks the bike next to the shed. When he lets the kickstand down, Sam hops off but keeps nagging, “I’m just as mad as you are that we had to move here, Michael, but you don’t see me doing cocaine off some hooker’s stomach—“ 

Michael interrupts him before he can get too far, “Okay, Sam, you’re going a little bit overboard now. I’m not on any drugs. This is literally our second day here.” He rolls his eyes as he throws his leg over the seat of his bike to dismount it. What’s with everyone thinking he’s, like, a drug dealer or something?

Sam just looks up at him like he doesn't believe Michael, so he does what he’s been wanting to do all night: he walks away. 

Or, he tries to, but Sam decides at that exact moment to grip Michael’s sleeve in a vice. 

“I’m just worried about you, Mike.” He looks just as uncomfortable with this conversation as Michael is, “I know what happened to you and Jessica last year. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone and go off and do something stupid.”

Michael can’t believe what’s coming out of his sibling’s mouth right now. He yanks his arm away from Sam, immediately backing up a few paces to get some space between the two of them. He snarls his lip at Sam, a glare so intense directed at him that if looks could kill, Sam would be dust by now.

“What the hell, Sam?!” 

“Mike, I just wanted to help—“

Michael takes another step back, like he can’t believe all this is happening.

“Who the fuck told you about that, huh?!” He needs to know so that he can— what?

Sam stays where he is, putting his hands up like he’s talking to a rabid bear. He looks so scared. Scared of his own brother. Like he’s not looking at Michael, but at their father. 

Before Sam can come out with an answer, Michael turns from the whole situation and runs. He runs until he’s in the house and stomps past his mother, who tries to greet him sweetly, but he’s already halfway up the stairs before he even realizes she’s said anything.

He doesn’t look back.

He keeps going until he’s in his room and locks his door to any unwanted visitors whomay think it wise to bother him. He resists the urge to start destroying things, literally balling his fists at his sides so as to not start ripping wallpaper down. 

It feels so childish, but he’s fuming at what Sam told him. He starts to pace his room, trying to figure out who might’ve told Sam about his biggest secret. Michael’s never told anyone that before, so how is it that Sam knows?

Michael let’s out a low growl of frustration and just falls back onto his mattress. He’s tired and wants to sleep, but now that his mind is racing a mile a minute, sleep won’t come. He flips over in bed and buries his face in his pillow, screaming into it loudly. A little part of him wants someone to hear, while the other part of him is glad for the pillow to muffle his wail.

‘I didn’t ask to be like this…’ he thinks to himself as he feels the first tears of his anger and frustration spill out over his cheeks to dampen his pillowcase. ‘I don’t want to be like this.’ He wants to scream to the heavens. He wants God to know he made a big mistake when he made Michael. He doesn’t want anyone else to know his secret.

He wants a friend who’ll listen and understand.

Michael slowly turns over on the top of the sheets, tears slowly drying up as he just stares up at the ceiling. He wipes at his cheeks roughly. He hates himself for crying like a little girl, but the news of Sam knowing about that caught him by surprise. A soft knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts.

“Michael? ….Sweetie? Can I talk to you?” His mother’s voice brings both a warmness to his heart and a slight chill down his spine. Is this where she tells him that he’s no longer welcome in her house? Is this where he’ll have to find an apartment and an actual job? Will he be by himself from now on? What if—

Michael sighs, “Yeah, hold on.” He trudges over to the bedroom door, checking his face in the mirror before unlocking and opening the door for him mom. He tries on a smile that must not be too convincing, judging by Lucy’s facial expression. “Oh, honey…” she holds her arms out in an invitation for a hug.

Michael can’t take it anymore. 

He immediately wraps his arms around his mother’s waist, burying his face into her shoulder. He feels like he’s in kindergarten again, like when that kid, Alex, stole his ice cream only to throw it on the ground and laugh in his face. He feels more tears coming, but holds them back so he won’t worry his mom… or let her start to think there’s a problem. That’s the last thing he needs; her asking him questions.

“I’m tired, mom.” Michael whispers, because he doesn’t trust his voice not to break. He knows he’s not really talking about rest, and he thinks that his mother realizes that too. 

“I know, sweetheart.. I know.” Lucy rubs his back, soothingly, as they stand in the short hallway. Michael has a sick feeling that his mother knows, but there’s absolutely no way she could. “Why don’t you come downstairs and help me with supper? We can talk.” She smiles sweetly down at her oldest, “We haven’t done that in a while.”

Michael squeezes her around the middle one last time before standing up to his full height. He hopes his face isn’t too blotchy. 

“Yeah, sure, mom.” He says quietly. His voice is a little scratchy from crying earlier. He sniffs and gives her a small smile, “What are we having?” He follows her down the hallway and descends the stairs, pausing just a split second to glance over at Sam who’s reading a comic book on the couch in the living room.

“I was thinking we could try meatloaf again!” his mother calls to him from the kitchen, bringing Michael back to the present. He quickly mentally shakes himself out and proceeds through the swinging doors to the kitchen. He’s feeling a little bit better now that he’s almost certain his mother doesn’t know about what happened last summer with Jessica.

“Aren’t you tired of trying, mom? The last one came out a little… different.” He gives her a little chuckle when she grins and whacks him on the arm lightly. “Nanook couldn’t even stomach it.” He continues to hound her on her cooking skills until she’s laughing along with him. 

“Okay, mister. Just for that? You can go get all the ingredients out of the fridge and start prepping them for me,” Lucy says with a giggle. 

“Alright, alright..” Michael laughs out with a little roll of his eyes, really messing with her. “I guess you need a real chef to show you how it’s done.” He steps over to the fridge, noting that it’s really dark outside when he glances out the window, past his grandfather’s marijuana plants. The sunset from before is just a memory by now. 

As Michael listens to Lucy ramble about her day and sing along to the old fifties tunes on the radio, he gets started on prepping everything on the counter in front of the large pane window. He can’t help smiling to himself. It reminds him of better days when he was younger, back in Phoenix, when his dad would be at work or at the bar. 

Michael chops up the last bit of onion and slides it into a little pile next to the ground chuck, just as something out in the oak tree catches his eye. He squints at what looks like a shadow in the top of the foliage. ‘What the hell…?’ He thinks, as he leans closer to the glass, ‘What is that?’ 

The shape is way too large to be an owl or any kind of animal native to the surrounding area. He presses closer until his nose is almost squashed against the window. He must be going crazy, because he thinks he catches a glimpse of white blond hair before someone is tapping on his arm, dragging his attention away from the tree.

Lucy is smiling at him when he turns her way. “Something wrong, Michael?” she asks him in that motherly voice of hers. 

“Uh…” he glances back out the window and then back to her, shakes his head, “No, no… everything’s fine.” He wants to go outside and investigate, but doesn’t want his family to think he’s gone crazy.

Lucy, God love her, looks at Michael with more love than Michael can even understand at the moment. 

“It’s okay to not be okay, Michael. I want you to know that.” She pats his arm, squeezing his bicep in a tender way, “You know I love you, that I’ll love you no matter what?” Lucy looks up at Michael, her soft smile cutting straight to Michael’s core.

“...Yeah, Mom.. I know.” He gives her a wobbly grin, cursing himself mentally for feeling so emotional. “I love you, too.” 

Lucy just smiles, so beautiful even more now that she’s free from his father. “Let’s get to cooking.” 

That’s another thing that he absolutely loves about the woman, she always knows when to move on from something. She always knows when a sore has been picked at enough and it’s ready to just be bandaged.

He watches as she heads over to the oven to start preheating it. While she’s preoccupied with that, he can’t keep his eyes from drifting over to the window again. He tries to get a glimpse of the shadow again, but it seems to be gone now. He shrugs it off, knowing it isn’t more important than what’s going on with him and his mother. 

And if it’s some kind of monster wanting to take him away from all this, so be it. He wouldn’t complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get something out for you lovelies, so have some Michael and Lucy bonding! 
> 
> I really am overwhelmed by all the love for this story! Thank you all so much!!  
> ~ DanDan


	3. Darkness Falls Yet Another Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael reflects on the past and makes questionable decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a roll people! I’m writing a chapter every 1-2 days, so I guess you could say this is my new obsession? 😂 
> 
> ~Danny

Michael tries to get back to the boardwalk the next few days, but life has really given him the finger on that dream. The next three days are a whirlwind of unpacking, helping his grandpa with the horses, and cleaning the house while his mom and brother go sign Sam up for his sophomore year of high school. It’s not that he hates helping his family out, even though he and Sam haven’t really talked much since the fight. He just really wants to see his new friends and let them know he hasn’t ditched them or something. 

He really hopes they don’t think he went missing like that girl, Maria, had mentioned. He’d seen the missing posters on the walls of the boardwalk stores as he passed by them the other night. Just looking at them had made him uncomfortable, made him walk faster and keep a better eye on Sam. That is, until they got to the comic shop and Michael had given up on the idea that Sam would be kidnapped.

They definitely would bring him back.

Michael sighs as he throws the last bit of trash into the dumpster outside, ready for the garbage truck to pick up on Monday. He brushes his hands together as he squints up into the sky where it changes from orange, purple, and yellow to blue, pink, and red. He thinks to himself that it would probably look even prettier on the beach, maybe with someone there to watch it with him. He shakes his head. 

‘Dumb thoughts for a stupid kid.’, his father’s scornful voice supplies in his mind. He’s been thinking a lot about the man lately, but not the way a son is supposed to think of his father. Things like, is he still alive? Is his car wrapped around a tree somewhere? Or his favorite one, did some other drunk guy slit his throat at the bar when he refused to pay up on the bet?

Yeah, Michael definitely couldn’t care less, but it does make him wonder.

A horse by the fence nudges his arm, effectively bringing him out of his depressing thoughts. He idly pats the horse’s nose as looks back to the house, making a decision. He could wait for his mom and brother to get home and ask for permission to head to the boardwalk, it is Friday and all. Or, he could just go and hopefully be back before they notice he’s gone.

He weighs his options.

He chooses the latter easily. He guesses if Sam was here, he’d say something about his “appetite for self destruction,” but honestly Michael could care less. He needs a distraction.

He hops on his old Honda XL 250 S and skids out of the driveway, headed for Beach Street, zip code, 95060.

He doesn’t look back.

————————

When Michael parks his motorcycle in the lot just off the side of the boardwalk, he notices there’s already a heap of really nice bikes parked closer to the steps. He dismounts his own bike and can’t help but check out the almost glowing Triumph on his way up to the stairs. 

The metal contraption is a being of true beauty.

He reaches out, just to skim his fingertips across the leather pouch on the side. He jumps when someone clears their throat behind him, and spins around like he’s been caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar. His hands are clasped behind his back as if he just wasn’t creeping on someone else’s ride two seconds prior. 

“Nice bike, right?” Dwayne’s deep voice rings through the night, just as someone screams on the Big Dipper down at the end of the walk. 

He dressed in all black and leather again, in almost the same clothes as three nights ago. He’s still not wearing a shirt, but this time instead of ripped, worn jeans, they’ve been replaced by a pair of sinfully tight leather pants. 

Michael isn’t staring or anything.

“Thought you had died or something,” the other brunet says as he descends the stairs, chuckling at his own joke. When he’s standing in front of Michael, he stops and cocks his head to the side, his long black hair falling over his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer to his first question.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Michael stutters out the response, looking back over his shoulder at the bike of his dreams. “It’s great.. is it yours?” he asks as he turns back around to Dwayne, feeling so awkward around the other teen.

“He would kill me if I took credit for any of that,” Dwayne says, as he gestures to the bike in front of him. “Nah, that’s all David right there. Salvaged it and redid the whole thing.” He smiles proudly. “Even put some personal touches on there.” Dwayne stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets, his smirk turning into what might be called a polite smile as he looks back at Michael. 

“We’re actually out on a food run right now. Thinking about getting some Chinese, wanna join?” He says it so nonchalantly, Michael only wishes he had that much confidence in himself. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Where?”, Michael asks, looking behind Dwayne to see if he can find the blond who’s been plaguing his dreams. 

“Marko and Paul are picking the food up.” Dwayne looks behind himself as if he knows David is coming around the corner, which he is. “Me and David were on drink duty tonight.” His smirk is back in place again as he sees Michael eye the beer cases hanging from David’s fingers. “Fake IDs can get a man what he wants.” Dwayne winks at Michael’s astonished face.

“Well, alright then.” Michael can’t help but join in with Dwayne’s laughter, while he watches David secure the beer on his Triumph.

Michael gets a stupid idea, but makes a split second decision to go with said stupid idea. He chews on the inside of his lip as he turns to Dwayne.

“Can you tell him that I like his bike, man?” Michael asks awkwardly. He would do it himself, but his ASL is definitely rusty, and he doesn’t want to look dumb in front of David.

To his surprise, Dwayne doesn’t make a big deal about it and just nods. “Sure, man.” He grins at Michael, waiting politely for David to get done with the beer.

Once the blond is done, he turns around, already in the middle of signing something to Dwayne, but stops when he sees that Dwayne is trying to tell him something. He watches the signs that Dwayne’s hands make, the corner of his mouth curling up in a tiny smirk.

He turns his attention to Michael.

Michael thought he wanted all this boy’s attention, but now that he has it undivided, he’s not so sure anymore. His eyes are like the bluest of crystals on the sunniest of days, piercing through him like a broad sword slicing through butter.

David makes the sign for “thank you” while also mouthing the words along with it. 

Michael is mesmerized by how this boy is an equal mixture of confident, smug, and shy all at the same time. It must be something they all learn to be over time. 

Dwayne claps him on the shoulder. “C’mon guys!” He makes sure that his face is turned toward David so the blond can read his lips, “Lets get home so we can chow down.” 

“Where’s home?” Michael asks a little wearily, not sure he wants to meet the people that spawned these guys. 

“Just follow us. It’s not that far out.” Dwayne grins at him before he signs something to David, making the other teen flip him off and scowl. Dwayne takes it in stride and laughs, mounting his own bike that’s parked behind David’s. 

“I don’t think my bike’ll keep up with both of—“

David smirks, having read Michael’s lips and body language. He signs something to Michael.

Dwayne chuckles, “He says you could always ride bitch on his?” 

Michael is about to retort with something scathing, but stops short when he hears David chuckle. Michael’s face must’ve somehow given away that him riding bitch wasn’t happening, because David points at Michael and just starts to laugh. 

It’s music to Michael’s ears.

Michael snorts and rolls his eyes to cover up the fact that he’s blushing. He mounts his own bike, revving it up before yelling over all their engines, “After you!” He watches them speed off a few seconds before he quickly skids after them.

————————————

Michael is a little confused, to say the least, when they park atop a rocky seaside cliff, overlooking an immaculate lighthouse that shines bright in the Californian night. He slides up beside David’s Triumph, hoping he’s not being too obvious as to how scared he is being so high, so close to the edge of the cliff face. Memories of the past once again popping up unwarranted in his mind. Things like his father pushing him off the high dive when he chickened out about jumping. His father acted as if he climbed up there to help him down, only to push him off, calling him a pussy and laughing. 

He hates heights.

David seems to notice his uneasiness and pokes him in the bicep with his pointer finger, bringing Michael’s attention back from the choppy seas below. When Michael blinks at him owlishly, David smirks and juts his thumb in the direction of what looks to be an opening in the earth’s surface. 

Michael dismounts his bike, making an attempt at helping David with the twelve packs, but gets slapped away. He laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay… no helping. Got it.” Michael doesn’t know why, but he’s a little relieved when David chuckles back at him. “So, are we having, like, a party on the cliff or something?” 

Dwayne grabs a 7/11 bag out of the leather pouch on his own bike. He gestures to the opening David had pointed at earlier, “Nah, party at our place!”, he says excitedly. From the opening, Michael can hear Marko and Paul hooting and hollering deep within the crater.

Michael thrusts his hands deep into his pockets and wanders after David and Dwayne, not unlike a lost puppy. He still doesn’t know what’s going on, but somehow, for some reason, he trusts these boys.

“Watch your step.” Dwayne is the first to hop down into the sizable crater, yelling at Paul to light an oil barrel.

David looks back at Michael for almost a second, a smirk playing on his lips, before dropping down into the hole as well, beers and all. 

Michael peers down into the opening, his mind going places he really wishes it didn’t. Dwayne’s legs and arms twisted into odd angles and David’s head busted open on a sharp boulder because of the fall. He swallows down a sudden lump in his throat, but soon realizes that, over the sound of his erratic heartbeat, he can hear the boys calling to him within the darkness. 

“Michael! Yoo-hoo!” 

“C’mon, Michael! I know you can do it!”

“Come on down, Michael!”

Michael doesn’t second guess himself, knowing that he’ll turn around and leave if he doesn’t jump down into the void. Michael does, however, think about his life choices right before he steps down into the blackness. He congratulates himself for doing so well, in his opinion. 

At least he’s not dead yet.

He follows the sounds coming from the end of the dark tunnel of the cave like underground, the flickering light at the mouth guiding him. He almost trips at one point on a jagged piece of rebar, catching himself on the...wall? What was an old, decaying wall doing in a seaside cave? 

“C’mon, Mikey! I’m hungry as shit!” Paul’s whiney voice rings out from the end of the tunnel. “We’re gonna eat without you if you don’t get your ass in here!”

Michael can’t help but chuckle at the childishness as he regains his footing, walking the rest of the way to where the tunnel opens up into an eccentric looking cavern. As he slowly walks into the cave, he tries to take it all in. It’s been decorated with little souvenirs, posters, and tapestries that look like they might’ve come from overseas. Old, almost ancient looking furniture adorns the floor, and in the middle, a great dilapidated fountain.

“Fucking finally!” Paul crows as Michael emerges from the entrance of the cave. “Let’s eat!” He plops down on the side of the fountain, letting his legs swing back and forth, grinning over at Michael.

“Paul acts like we don’t feed him.” Marko laughs. He’s sitting on a rock protruding through the wall, up near the top of the cave, a pigeon delicately perched on his gloved hand.

Dwayne laughs along with Marko, signing to David quickly as he speaks, “Paul is the trash compactor of the group.” 

David grins and grabs a take out box of chow mein from one of the white bags on the fountain surface. He signs to Dwayne, who throws the blond a pair of chopsticks from the other bag.

Dwayne laughs, “Got that right…” 

Michael sits on an old wingback chair, leaning forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees, as he quietly asks, “What’d he say?”

Dwayne licks his fingers where he’s just tasted some of the sesame chicken, “Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s deaf, not stupid.” He continues to eat out of the box with his fingers.

It’s not like Michael thinks David’s stupid, it’s just that everytime Michael even looks his way, he freezes up like a school boy who’s asking some girl out to prom. He sighs. Why can’t life just be easy for once, and not fuck Michael over like it always has?

“I know that, Dwayne,” Michael huffs, getting the feeling that Dwayne knows why he’s uncomfortable with talking to David, but since the other brunet hasn’t knocked his teeth in for being a queer, he thinks that maybe he’s safe for now. Michael turns to David, who’s sitting in a rusty wheelchair, like it’s his throne. He tries to conjure up all his knowledge on ASL that he’s learned in high school, which isn’t a lot. 

“I don’t know many signs,” he starts to sign as he mouths the words, “but I hope we can be friends.” He prays that doesn’t sound too awkward, but when a slow smile spreads on David’s face, he feels like he’s won the lottery. 

David signs back quickly, his eyes on Michael but the hand signals obviously meant for Dwayne to relay back to Michael. Dwayne smiles and takes another bite of chicken, acting nonchalant as ever.

“He says that’d be cool, but we really need to work on your social skills,” Dwayne says through a mouthful of food. He goes onto yelling at Paul for throwing rocks at Marko’s pigeons, kind of like a disappointed father would do.

While everyone else is preoccupied with the birds, Michael watches David, taking in his fill of the boy before he has to say goodbye once again. The blond watches the others roughhouse and throw things at each other with a grin on his face, like he’s used to their antics. Michael guesses he is.

When Michael looks up from inspecting David’s spurs on his boots from his seat across from the blond, he freezes when he sees two icy blue eyes staring back into his. 

He’s been caught red handed.

Michael can already feel his blush starting to heat up his ears, down into his cheeks. ‘Why hath thou forsaken me, life?”, he thinks to himself miserably as David smirks smugly over at him.

Michael stammers, “N-nice boots.” He mentally slaps himself. What the hell? Where did all his mojo go? ‘Oh, yeah,” he remembers, ‘it’s gone with Jessica and the rest of my dignity,’ he thinks bitterly. 

David chuckles quietly and signs a quick ‘thank you’ to Michael before grunting to get Dwayne’s attention. The blond teen has a quiet conversation with Dwayne using his signs. Michael really wishes he knew what they were talking about, wants to know so much more about David, but David and Dwayne’s hands are more like a blur to him. They sign too fast for him to even begin to think about what they’re saying.

Dwayne stands from his seat, making a show of it by moaning and groaning about how old he’s getting and stretches his arms over his head with a crack of his spine. He meanders over to an old, splintered bookshelf near a canopy bed off to the side of the cavern. Michael watches as the other brunet skims his fingertips across the spines of the dusty books, humming to himself as he looks for something in particular.

“You sure it’s— found it!” he mumbles to himself, excitedly. He pulls a book out that looks to be the size of an encyclopedia. When Dwayne walks back over to the fountain, Michael tries to get a closer look at the cover, but it seems that the book sleeve is gone and the cover underneath is ruined. Dwayne tosses the large book to Michael, who only barely catches it in his lap.

“Read over that. It should start with the basics and go through the more advanced stuff” Dwayne offers as he lights up a cigarette. “I won’t always be available to teach you and you seem like you really wanna learn.” He winks right before Michael opens the oversized book.

Michael’s eyes widen at all the step by step pictures on how to learn ASL that are spread out on the pages. Everything he would ever need to know is all written out here. Everything he needs to study to learn how to communicate with the most intriguing boy he’s ever met.

“Thanks.” Michael grins up at Dwayne, “This’ll help a lot.” He looks back down at the book again and flips through some of the pages to get a feel for it. He skims through the alphabet and everything seems to come back to him, at least the basics.

Michael turns to David and smiles, signing out his name to the blond teen and adding a little awkward peace sign at the end. He kind of hates himself for it, but when David starts to laugh and shake his head at him, he feels like he’s accomplished something. He even gets David to sign his own name back to him, like they’re introducing themselves properly for the first time.

Michael smiles as he looks around the cave from his spot in the old, worn chair, wondering idly how the hell they found this place.

“Your parents let you guys hang out here?”, Michael asks over Paul and Marko’s laughter and yelling, catching Dwayne’s attention.

“Parents? You got parents Paulie?” Dwayne turns to the blond rocker in question, who smirks.

“Nah, you got parents Marko?” 

Marko throws a rock at Paul which causes an outright fight to break out amongst the two knuckleheads, making Dwayne have to once again get up and disengage the scuffle. Michael turns to David, speaking to him, and hoping that the bleach blond can read lips as good as he thinks he can.

“Do any of you have parents?” he asks David quietly, as to not alert the other boys. He doesn’t want them butting in on this.

David shakes his head, a neutral look on his face, almost like he couldn’t care less. At least Michael knows he can read lips expertly now.

“Oh…” Michael pauses, “Well, if any of you ever need anything…” he pauses again, signing the signal for ‘help’. “I can help.”

David nods, a friendly half smile quirking his well shaped lips up at the side. 

Michael nods back, smiling just as broad. God, he feels so awkward, talking to a guy like he would a girl. Trying to flirt. 

As a small war goes on around the two of them, Michael can’t see anyone but the boy in front of him. David has not only taken up all the space in Michael’s head, but has entered very thought that has popped up in his mind the past week. He can’t stop thinking about the teen, can’t stop wondering what it would be like if they were friends. How differently he would act. Yes, Michael just may be obsessed with this new person in his life.

Honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone likes it so far! Next chapter coming soon!
> 
> ~Danny


	4. Thou Shall Not Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finally asks one of the big questions.
> 
> The boys are just along for the ride.
> 
> Michael makes some plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longer one folks!
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me as I try to figure this story as I go along! 
> 
> Hope ya'll like this one!
> 
> ~Danny

Michael gets home later than expected, around three in the morning. He opens the side door that leads to the kitchen, thinking the linoleum won’t squeak as bad as the aged wooden planks in the living room. As quietly as he can, shuts the door and locks it, thanking a higher deity that nothing made any loud thumps or bangs. He lets out a huff of breath, tiptoeing through the dark kitchen and into the foyer where he can see the stairs. 

He can taste the victory of not getting caught on the tip of his tongue.

Just as he climbs the first two steps to victory, a light in the living room behind him flickers on. He immediately freezes, his shoulders hunching up around his ears. ‘Well, shit… please be Sam, please be Sam…’ he chants to himself, as he slowly turns. His stomach drops when he sees Lucy sitting in the recliner with a book in her lap. She doesn't look angry, perse, but concerned.

That makes it even worse.

“Michael? Do you mind explaining to me why you're sneaking in at three in the morning?” Her voice is as gentle as always, but that just twists the knife of guilt deeper into Michael’s chest. She gestures for Michael to sit on the sofa in front of her. She wants to talk.

“Mom, I’m… just tired.” Michael sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on, the last thing he needs right now. “Can we talk tomorrow? I really just wanna go to bed.” He hopes his mother takes the hint, wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow him right now.

“I think we can talk right now.” she says in a slightly more commanding voice. She once again points to the couch, a gleam in her eyes that tells Michael that she's not messing around. 

Michael groans internally. Of course his mom would choose now to start acting like this. He trudges over and flops down onto the couch, looking every bit of an angsty teenager. He even crosses his arms over his chest. All that's missing is for him to poke his bottom lip out.

His mother smiles sweetly at him, “I know that moving is hard on both you and Sam, Michael… but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” She looks like she wants to take Michael into her arms and never let him go. 

Michael feels like he may explode.

“We used to talk, before… everything.” She trails off, wanting Michael to fill in the silence, but his words won’t come out of his frozen throat. He wants so badly to just  _ tell  _ her what’s been bugging him, but can’t risk it, even if she’s the best mom in the world. He decides on a half truth.

“I think I found a cool group of people to maybe be friends with… but there’s this– girl in the group that I really like.” Once again, his mojo leaves him right when he needs it, “She’s really nice and pretty and I feel like I have exactly zero chance with her.” Uh oh. Now he can’t stop what’s coming out of his mouth. Everything is just spilling out all at once.

“She’s actually really beautiful and her laugh makes me happy…” he trails off thinking about a certain blond that truly brings joy to his life.

“Oh, Michael!” Lucy looks absolutely ecstatic. “You have a crush on someone? That’s great, honey!”

“Uh, mom? I think you missed the part where I said I have NO chance of being with her.” He has to stop himself from using the wrong pronouns. Shit, this is dangerous. 

“You don’t know until you ask, sweetie.” She claps her hands together, “Oh! I know! You could ask your little group of friends over for dinner next weekend!” She starts chattering on about how “fun” it will be and what she’s going to be making for everyone. How Michael could get closer to this “girl”.

“Mom, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Michael stammers out, holding his hands up in front of himself. He can’t believe this is happening. His mom can not find out about David and the others.

“Don’t be silly, Michael. It’ll be fun–“

“She’s deaf!” Michael blurts out, instantly regretting it and clamping his mouth shut. Now he just sounds like an asshole.

“Oh.. well, I’ll just have to look at her while we’re talking. Can she read lips? I know a bit of sign language–“ Michael tunes her out, remembering that he left the book Dwayne gave him on the kitchen counter when he was sneaking in earlier.

“Okay, mom, I’ll tell them about it. Just don’t be disappointed when they say no.” He says distractedly. He stands, “I gotta grab something from the kitchen.”

“Okay, dear,” she yawns, “I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiles at him, before standing as well and heading to her bedroom.

Michael takes the chance to rush to the kitchen, grabs the book, and takes the stairs two at a time. He locks his bedroom door behind him, leaning his back against the wood before sliding down to the floor.

‘What the hell am I going to do now?’ he thinks miserably, thunking his head back against the door. He looks up to the water spot on the ceiling, huffs, and just closes his eyes. The sign language book rests heavily on his lap, the main reminder of his mistake. 

‘For  _ being  _ a mistake’, he corrects himself.

He refuses to let his tears fall, even though they prickle at his eyelids, threatening him. Why is he like this? Why can’t he just be normal? 

Why did everyone always end up stabbing him in the back?

Michael shakes his head, trying to think positive for once, so his emotions will stay behind the walls he’s built up. ‘Maybe these guys are different. Maybe that _ look _ David gave me means something more than I originally thought.’ He bites his bottom lip hard.

‘Maybe mom won’t hate me because I have a stupid crush on a boy’ 

After a few more minutes of sitting in misery, he finally stands and drags his feet to his bed. He cradles the book in his hands like a precious newborn, not wanting to tear or mess anything up on the cover. He gently slides the large book under his extra pillow, wanting to keep it preserved, wanting it all to himself. 

Michael strips down to his boxers, getting ready for bed, before rolling onto the mattress. He doesn’t bother covering up, as his window is open letting in the hot summer air. Before he falls into a dreamless slumber, his hand subconsciously finds the book under the pillow and lays itself atop the cover. 

Sighing contently, Michael finally gets to rest.

——————————-

  
  


When morning rolls around, the sun from Michael’s open window bares all of its glory down on his face, making him moan and roll the opposite direction. His hazy mind barely registers the smell of bacon and pancakes wafting through his room from the crack under the door. He reaches up to rub the sleep from his eyes, grunting when he opens them to find that his hand has flipped the pillow off the ASL book. He definitely has a love/hate relationship with the thing. It reminds him that he should’ve just fled when the boys had invited him to that bonfire. Wallet be damned.

“Shit…” he gumbles, as he sits up in bed. His stomach growls, making him remember that he didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday. The smell coming from downstairs makes his stomach lurch in  _ want _ . He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stretches, idly scratching his belly before finally standing. He trudges over to his closet to grab some jeans, pulls them on, and goes about using the sniff test to find a shirt off his floor. Once he finds a semi clean shirt that passes, he pulls it over his head and heads downstairs. His little brother’s annoyingly loud voice ringing out through the otherwise silent house. 

“And then I told Edgar that they need to revamp the shop, like, at least a new paint job. Then he goes off on a tangent about some vampire bull crap, like they're actually real things! It's like it went right over his head! I swear, these guys are crazy, mom.” Sam keeps rattling off about his new friends, as Michael walks briskly into the kitchen. When the youngest of the two sees Michael, he trails off, looking down into his plate of pancakes like he's not there, sending a pang of guilt through Michael like an arrow.

Michael is tired of dancing around one another. 

“Hey, nerd.” Michael says with a yawn, patting Sam on the shoulder as he slides into the seat beside him, like nothing ever happened the other night. Like Michael didn’t scream at Sam, didn't listen to what Sam had to say. God, Michael is a fucking asshole.

“Uh...hey, Mike.” Sam stammers, after swallowing a bite of bacon. He smiles hopefully, a small little thing that's so easily broken. “How’s it going?” He looks at his brother like he's scared that whatever is happening between them, this comradery, will be ripped apart any second.

“Nothing much, man.” Michael answers him easily. He doesn’t miss the way their mother is obviously listening to their conversation. “Hung out with some friends last night.” He takes a bite of his own pancakes, the food settling in his stomach like a dream come true . His mother grins, as if she wasn’t eavesdropping seconds ago, and joins them at the table with some buttered toast. Michael sees Sam freeze out of his peripheral vision, shoulders hunched just the tiniest bit.

He doesn’t want that.

“I… I thought about what you said, and I totally get it, Sammy, but.. these guys, they seem like they’re really cool.” Michael explains. For some inexplicable reason, he wants his little brother to like his new friends, and wants him to accept Michael as well. Trying to lighten the mood, he reaches over and ruffles Sam’s hair, “Besides, they’re cooler than your new nutcase friends.”

Michael doesn’t mention the part of their argument that made him yell at Sam. He doesn’t want to talk about Jessica.

Sam swats at Michael’s hand, “Stop it, Mike! It took me forever to do my hair this morning!” He whines, trying to fix his ruined hair with his fingers. He glares at his older brother with no real heat behind it, his scowl turning into a grin, “Mom was telling me about your weird friends coming over for dinner next weekend.”

Shit, Michael had, blessedly, almost forgotten about that.

“Uh, yeah… I don’t think–“ Michael starts, but gets interrupted by his mother, who waves her hand in a dismissive motion.

“Really, dear, it’s no problem at all. I’ll even make my famous German chocolate cake for dessert!” She giggles when Sam’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, and grins at Michael when her oldest gives her an unsure smile. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow so I’ll already have everything to cook with.”

“Mom, they’re not really–“ 

Sam grabs Michael by the arm, his eyes comically large.“C’mon, Mike! Mom hasn’t made dessert in _ years _ ! We can celebrate our new life all together!” He starts to go on about how he can also invite  _ his  _ new friends and how  _ absolutely awesome _ everything is going to be.

Michael keeps his face carefully neutral, a fake smile plastered on like a mask. He’s not getting out of this now. His mom is going to find out there’s not  _ actually  _ a girl in this equation. He’s going to get kicked out and have to live on the streets.

Sweat starts the bead at Michael’s hairline.

“I’m headed out guys.” Michael announces, as he stands from the table, catching both Lucy and Sam off guard. “Gotta look for a job” He keeps his statements short and sweet, as he moves to the garbage can to throw away his half eaten stack of pancakes. His appetite is suddenly gone. He makes way out of the kitchen, hearing his mother call after him as he grabs his keys out of the bowl on the living room coffee table.

“Don’t forget to ask!”

Michael sighs, doesn’t respond. As he closes the door behind him, he’s at least thankful that he resolved the horrible tension between him and his brother. He's glad that they’re on speaking terms now, able to stop avoiding one another. 

When he cranks up his old Honda, he tries not to think about maybe running into the boys on the boardwalk or in town. Tries not to think about how beautiful David’s baby blue eyes would look on a sunny Californian day. He pulls out of the yard and onto the long driveway, passing by his grandpa on the way to the highway.

His hair whips around his head as he rides down the seaside road of Santa Carla, his mind once again going to dark places. Dark places like his mom hating him just like his father, Michael getting kicked out, forced to live somewhere low rent. He shivers at the thought of having to go through life on his own, without family. 

At least he has a few bucks saved up from odd jobs, back in Phoenix.

Maybe Sam will come visit him in his shitty, rundown apartment.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


After a long day of job searching, Michael isn’t anywhere closer to finding a job than he was before he got here. He flops down, dejected, onto a bench overlooking the ocean at the end of the boardwalk. The sun sets over the horizon, setting the beach into a darkness only broken up by the colorful lights of the pier. He chews on the inside of his lip, a nervous tic that his father used to make fun of him for. He guesses that he'll never be any better than that bastard if he can't even find a simple job. He’s looked everywhere, but no one has wanted him, or they just weren’t hiring. 

The only reason he even wants a job is to help his mom out, but now that he thinks about it, he might need the money once Lucy finds out about what happened in his junior year of high school. He spirals even deeper into depression. The thoughts bring his mind back to when he had friends, or people who said they were his friends. He thinks back to when things were simpler, like smoking weed under the bleachers or dugouts, hanging out at the arcade with Jessica and Seth, and pretending everything was normal. Michael shakes his head slowly, as he thinks back at how everyone was just lying to him, lying about liking him, just to get close enough to become popular like Michael.

Michael jumps when an unlit cigarette is thrust in front of him.

He whips his head to the side, a shock of bleach blond hair catching him off guard. David smiles at him softly, holding the cancer stick in front of the brunet, offering it to him. Michael is so transfixed on David, that he doesn't notice the other boys standing off to the side. He looks up when Dwayne's deep voice pipes up.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Dwayne raises an eyebrow at Michael, obviously expecting an answer. He wanders over to stand in front of David and Michael, smirks, “You look a little sad there, boyo.”

Michael plucks the cigarette out of David’s fingers, “Just thinking about stuff.” He automatically reaches for the lighter in his pocket, but remembers that he quit smoking last summer. He sighs, about to give it back to David, when said blond takes it back, pops it in his lips, and lights it. He watches as David takes a quick drag, before handing it back to Michael. The brunet blinks a little dumbly as he takes it back, his shaky fingers bring the cigarette up to his own lips. He tries not to think about how David’s lips had been where his are now. Tries not to watch as David blows a single smoke ring over his head.

Marko chews on the thumb of his motorcycle glove, “Thinkin’ ‘bout stuff…” His voice sounds mocking, but mocking in a friendly banter kind of way. He leans on Paul a little, as he smiles at Michael over his hand, “What kinda stuff?” He cocks his head to the side like an interested parrot. Paul suddenly moves to stand beside Dwayne, causing the curly haired imp to almost fall backwards with a squawk.

“Maybe he’s thinking about becoming a serial killer and luring people to his house, only to murder them right when they think they’re about to get some…” Paul says, excitedly. Dwayne shoots him a glare over his shoulder, while Marko cracks up. Michael gives Paul a mildly concerned look as David smokes, most likely used to this, relaxed against the bench. Michael wonders if David’s reaction would’ve been the same if he could’ve heard Paul. Probably so. He seems like a pretty chill guy.

“You’re fucking weird, Paulie,” Marko manages between hiccups of laughter.

Paul pouts, his lip jutting out a bit, “You don’t know, Michael might have an evil streak.” He growls at Marko when the smaller teen starts to laugh harder, “You always make fun of my ideas!”

“Yeah, because they’re fucking stupid!”

Marko goes down hard when Paul tackles him to the planks of the boardwalk, still laughing even as they bite and claw at each other. Michael glances over at Dwayne who just looks on in amusement.

“Uh, should we stop them?”, Michael asks, a little worried that Marko might bite Paul’s finger off if he keeps it up.

“Nah, this is normal, and, hey, if one of them loses a finger, there’s a hospital right down the road,” Dwayne snickers to himself, like he knows something Michael doesn’t. Dwayne seems to do that a lot. It’s starting to make Michael curious. The tan brunet brings him out of his thoughts, when he blurts out a question.

“Have you looked over the book at all?”

And Michael’s thought about it, sure, but the truth is, he just hasn’t had the time. He does plan on giving it a look when he gets home later. He  _ wants _ to know this new language, even if it’s for his own selfish reasons. He’s never been a good student in school, but maybe he can find the patience to study this. Michael shakes his head, for some reason he knows that Dwayne will be able to tell if he lies.

“Not yet, but I’m really excited to learn. It’s on my bed, actually–” He didn’t mean to say that. It makes him sound like he’s obsessed, like he had to sleep with it like a teddy bear. He wonders if, somehow, the other boys can tell that he slept with his hand over the cover all night. He wonders if they can pick out that he has  _ feelings _ for their friend.

The ridicule never comes.

“Okay, cool. It’ll be a whole lot easier for you to just talk straight to him, than for me to play moderator.”, Dwayne says, with his ever present, smug smirk.

Michael chuckles as he takes a pull from the cigarette, noting that it’s definitely laced with something hard. He chokes, “The fuck’s in this thing?” He wants to change the subject as fast as he can, and sees this as his outlet.

Paul pipes up from his place, sitting atop Marko’s sternum, “The good shit, dude! Only the best for my friends!” He gets thrown off by the surprisingly strong blond underneath him. The war begins anew.

Michael feels himself getting warm. A feeling that starts from his head and travels to the tips of his toes. He tells himself it’s Paul’s drugs, but he  _ knows  _ it’s because he’s now considered a  _ friend _ to the motley crew of boys. It’s probably stupid, but he feels way more relaxed now that he has the rest of them at his back. Like he’s been accepted into the pack.

David looks over at Michael, his arm thrown carelessly across the back of the bench, almost touching Michael’s shoulders. He smirks, not maliciously, but a friendly sort of half smile. Michael can’t help but give a small, tentative grin back. Are they having a  _ moment _ ?

David slowly blows the rest of the smoke from his joint in Michael’s face, making the taller teen’s eyes water and sends him into a coughing fit. Michael tries to wave the smoke away with his flailing arms, to no avail. The smoke has already infiltrated his lungs.

“Fucking,” he coughs, blinking the tears out of his eyes, “You’re a fucking bastard.” He continues to cough, only registering the other boys' laughs when his choking subsides. He harshly glares at the other teens, “The hell is wrong with you?” 

Over the ruckus of laughter from his new “friends,” he hears gentle chuckles coming from beside him. He turns his glare on David, but the expression melts when he sees the blond’s true smile, unbidden. 

‘David laughs like a thousand angels singing,’ Michael’s poetic side supplies. He shuts that thought down as soon as it comes to him. It’s too dangerous.

“So, besides ‘thinking about things,’ what brings you to the boardwalk?” Dwayne steals the second joint behind David's ear, and pops it in his mouth. David smacks him on the arm, making an objective noise in the back of his throat, glaring at the taller boy.

“I was actually looking for a job. You know of anything that pays well around here?” Michael puts on his own smirk. It’s fake though, his anxiety is building underneath the surface, like it wants to split his skin open and escape.

“Nothing legal.” 

Michael hates how fast Dwayne can retort smart ass comments. He feels jealousy start to rear its ugly head. He’s not really sure _ why, _ though _.  _ He decides to ignore it.

“At this point, I wouldn’t mind something sketchy,” he sighs, looking toward the ocean in front of them.

“What’s a guy like you, being so young and all, looking for a job? You can’t be older than seventeen,” Dwayne replies with a plume of smoke. “Enjoy your youth while you still can.”

Michael frowns. He’s never  _ wanted  _ to enjoy his youth before, always got made fun of by his own father for it. When he  _ did _ try to, out of his father’s overpowering gaze, he would get into so much mischief that would make him feel both powerful and regretful, in that order.

“I’m actually nineteen,” Michael says quietly, keeping it short. He doesn’t want them to know that he failed a year of school. He doesn’t want them to know that he dropped out either, although he thinks that Paul might’ve dropped out at some point as well. “I wanted to find a job to help my mom out. She just, uh, divorced my dad and moved our family here from Phoenix.” Michael feels so awkward, as he scratches the back of his neck. He readies himself for the boys to make fun of him, call him a momma’s boy.

Dwayne is the first to raise his eyebrows, but he doesn’t call Michael any names. “Arizona? That’s a long way from home,” he says, as he cocks his head to the side, long hair sweeping over his shoulder. “That must suck, man.”

Michael can only shrug, “Dad is the only thing that really sucks.” That earns him an amused snort from Marko, who has won the battle with Paul, and is now leaning against said man, again. “He’s a real bastard, hit my brother for no reason and was always calling my mom names.”

David picks up on his mood, his eyes turning sympathetic when Dwayne relays what Michael’s saying to him. He signs back to Dwayne, his eyes instantly darting back to Michael after he’s done.

Dwayne nods, looking at Michael as well, “David says that sounds a whole lot like someone he knows.” He sighs, looks like he’s thinking about something, “I think we can all agree that you’re dad’s an asshole, Michael, and you don’t owe him anything.” Dwayne is obviously speaking about Michael’s father, but his eyes say that he is talking about someone else. Maybe the person David mentioned?

They all nod in agreement. Michael is once again blown away by how kind this young group of bikers are. He never got this kind of companionship back in his hometown.

“Thanks, man, that means a lot,” Michael says, then after he thinks about it, makes the sign for “thank you” to David. David smiles, a crooked little thing, and waves him off, as if saying “don’t mention it.”

The happiness that ignites within Michael is something to behold. His face lights up and his smile is blinding, as he revels in the blush that  _ he  _ put on David’s face. All because of that one little sign he made to him.

Michael should have kept his mouth shut, but he’s never been good at that.

“Would you guys like to come over for dinner next Saturday night?” Physically, Michael is smirking, like he's in control of his emotions. Mentally, he’s screaming at himself for being so stupid. He’d already opened his big mouth and lied to his mom about his crush being a  _ girl _ . Now, he’s done it again. If the boys say yes, she’ll find that the  _ girl  _ of his dreams is actually a  _ boy.  _

Michael is already inwardly counting how much money he has, seeing if it's enough to rent a room in that old, run down building he checked out earlier that day. Always have your options open. That has been the only useful information that his dad has let him in on.

Dwayne, always the smug bastard, takes a long pull of his joint, making Michael wait for his answer. The long haired teen seems to think to himself on the matter, quickly signing to David, who nods after the quick conversation.

Dwayne grins. “Who’s cookin’?” He flicks the roach over the railing of the pier, “Wait, don't tell me, is it Momma bear? Please tell me she’s making desert.”

Michael blinks, eyes searching Dwayne's face for any deceit, trying to see if he's making fun of him in any way. He only finds excitement and true curiosity.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. She's making chocolate cake…” he trails off, eyes darting back to David, “So is that a yes?” he makes sure to exaggerate his words, making sure David can understand as well. Michael’s stomach does a flip when the bleach blond nods, confirming everything. Shit, maybe if he jumped off the end of the pier, the water would suck him out to sea and he could live a happy life somewhere in Peru where no one could bother him. He's so caught up in his racing thoughts, that he forgets about the two other boys.

“Fuck yeah! Chocolate!” Marko crows, right next to Paul, causing the rocker to jump and glare at the curly haired teen.

“Shit, Marko, we’re right here.” Paul pushes Marko’s shoulder. Do these two ever stop fighting?

“Who else will be there?” Dwayne glances over at Michael. Is that a bit of  _ nervousness  _ Michael sees in his eyes? Dwayne covers his emotions with his ever present smirk, “Just little bro and his friends?” Michael doesn’t understand Dwayne's unease until his next question.

“You’re dad won't be there, will he? No new boyfriends?”

Michael immediately shakes his head, “Oh, no. There's no way he's going to be there, man. He’s back in Phoenix, probably screwing someone else’s wife.” Michael emits a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, that drama is long gone.”

David’s shoulders seem to deflate as Dwayne smiles back at Michael. Michael inwardly grins when he notices that David had been paying attention to the conversation.

“Good. Less drama the better.” Dwayne looks back to where their bikes are parked, “You wanna ride back to the hotel? We were gonna listen to music and play cards.”

“Thanks, man, but I gotta head back home. It's my turn to pick up food.” Michael gives them all a genuine smile, as he stands from the bench, instantly missing David’s closeness. He wishes he could stay longer, could scoot closer to the blond just a little bit every few minutes, so he won't notice. 

He wishes that he had the balls to tell David how he feels.

“Okay, dude… oh, hey! In case we don't see you before Saturday, what's your address?” Dwayne stands with David to walk with Michael, “Or if you want, we could just stalk you to find your place.” He has that knowing smirk again.

“Oh! Uh, it’s-” 

“You seriously can't expect me to remember an address while I’m this high.” Dwayne slyly looks over at David, while digging in his pocket, producing a pen. He hands the rainbow colored ink pen over to Michael, who takes it hesitantly. “Write it down on something.”

Michael checks his pockets for a napkin or something, but comes up short, “I don’t have anything to-” He cuts himself off when David holds his ungloved hand out to Michael. Michael looks at David with wide, curious eyes.

“Just write it down on David’s hand, we'll write it down on something when we get home.” Dwayne lights another cigarette, wandering off to where their heavily decorated bikes are.

Michael stalls before reaching for David's hand.

He really hopes that his own hands aren't too sweaty. 

Michael is shocked to learn that David’s hand is ice cold to the touch, and gets the compulsive desire to warm it up with his own. As he carefully writes his address on David's palm, he wonders if the boy has a bad circulation problem. He’ll have to remind himself to ask about it later, maybe even on Saturday.

Oh, God, Saturday. The thought sends an icy rawness down his spine.

Once Michael has branded David’s palm with his chicken scratch, his eyes travel up the bleach blond’s arm to meet his blue orbs. So much different than the chill of his skin, his pleasant gaze sends a jolt of comfort through Michael. Their hands linger together for a few moments longer than necessary, neither of them willing to let go.

Michael has never wanted to kiss someone more than at this exact moment. 

David is the first to pull away, looking away quietly. He blushes, but smirks as his blue eyes travel back, only to be captured in Michaels ocean colored stare. David stuffs his hands back in his coat pockets, his eyes never leaving Michaels. 

Two heavy stomps bring them out of their mutual haze. 

David looks behind him after feeling the vibrations of the stomps, glaring at Dwayne, who obviously is the culprit. Michael has the urge to steal David away and never give him back. Michael feels like a selfish bastard for wanting to keep the blond boy all to himself.

“Hurry it up, lover boy! I’m hungry!” Dwayne yells over the screams coming from The Big Dipper.

‘Lover boy? There’s no  _ way  _ Dwayne figured him out this fast! How long was the other boy looking at them for?’ Michael panics, eyes darting around, trying to make sure no one heard them. He really doesn't want his teeth kicked in by some surfer because they got the wrong idea.

Michael only realizes that Dwayne’s speaking to David, when the shorter teen growls and stalks over to his friend. David starts to angrily sign at Dwayne, but Dwayne only shakes his head and chuckles as he mounts his bike, totally ignoring the group leader.

David reminds Michael of an angry cat that hasn't been fed yet.

“See ya later, Mikey!” Dwayne’s farewell is followed by an obnoxious, thundering roar from his motorcycle. He peels out of the parking area, into the restricted area where people are walking. Dwayne howls, like a wolf, into the night. The full moon is a perfect backdrop for him, when he rides his bike down the concrete stairs down to the beach.

Michael’s eyes stray back to David, catching the blond red handed, staring back at him.

David doesn’t look away, actually smirks and waves, before following the trail of pollution Dwayne’s bike left. He disappears into the night just like his friend.

Michael hopes that one day he’ll be accepted enough to ride with them.

As he ambles over to his own bike, he feels the serotonin leaking through his body. He can’t help the goofy twinkle in his eye, can't help his beaming smile as he mounts his vehicle. He revs it up, much like David did, and yowls. He scratches his tires on the pavement before heading in the direction of his grandfather's house. 

Michael starts to plan things out in his head, trying to find a way to explain David to his mother. He knows his mom has always been accepting, way more than his father, but something like this is different. This is something way off the map of being normal. He thinks, however, that he might have a plan.

Maybe Saturday night won't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll liked it! My DMs are always open on Tumblr, so come talk to me about my fic if you'd like!
> 
> @screamingheads on Tumblr


	5. There Is Something In The Sky That Glows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday Night!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out! I hope this makes up for everything!

“Michael! Are you still asleep?” 

Michael’s groan booms though his bedroom, as he flops over. Sam’s puberty voice, cracking on his loud whines, grates on his nerves like a nail file. Michael had gotten home at a decent time last night, for once, but had stayed up into the early morning hours studying the colossal ASL manual. He had studied for over six continuous hours. 

He had never put this much effort into something since that model rocket he and Sam had put together on his brother's fifth birthday. He's never even put this much work into school, back before he decided to drop out, and decided school just wasn't for him.

Sam opens both of Michael’s window blinds, still talking.

Michael idly wonders if it’s possible for someone's jaw to fall off from jabbering too much.

“It’s literally ten a.m., man! Up and at ‘em!” Sam tries to yank the comforter down off of Michael, but the older of the two draws the line at that. Michael tugs back against Sam, taking the younger sibling by surprise, and making him almost faceplant into Michael’s bedside table.

“Fuck off, Sam,” Michael growls, squeezing his eyes shut like it'll make Sam disappear.

Without warning, Sam’s split second decision to body slam Michael, becomes reality. 

More like a pounce, Sam is on top of the giant lump on the bed, otherwise known as Michael. Sam stays in control as all the air in his brothers lungs is forced out of him and he starts struggling.

“Get off me, Sam!” 

“Not until you wake up!” Sam laughs as Michael finally gets the advantage and throws him off. From Sam's place on Michael’s cluttered floor, Michael can tell his brother is excited about something. He doesn't have to wait for an answer, since Sam blurts it out.

“Mom wants us to go with her to the store to buy stuff for Saturday.” Then, “She said if we help, she'll bring me to the comic shop.”

Ah, that's why he's interrupting Michaels beauty sleep. He wants to see his weirdo friends.

Michael sighs, “I’m up, I’m up.” He holds the covers around himself, “But unless you want an eyeful of Michael meat, I’d leave right now.” he says, as he starts to stand.

Sam doesn't run track, but with how fast he scrambles out of Michael’s room, he could have a chance at a gold medal.

\------------

After Lucy is through gardening, Nanook is fed, and grandpa is sitting happily in his taxidermy room, stuffing a beaver, they finally are able to get to the market around six thirty in the evening. 

Michael is a little bit grateful that the local Santa Carla supermarket is crowded that day. He can blend in and pretend that he’s not there with his mom like some kind of child. He still comes to a resolution to slip a few boxes of his favorite candies in the buggy.

“Why don’t you and Sam go get the things to make the cake, I’ll be on the noodle aisle.” Lucy says, giddily, as she grabs the vegetables to make her homemade chicken parmesan. 

Luckily, the cake aisle is right next to where Lucy is eyeballing the noodles. Michael hums to himself as he looks over all the different types of cake mixes, knowing it would be easier to just get a box of mix, but feels like that would be cheating the boys out of a proper cake. As he grabs a bag of baking flour, he overhears his mother on the other aisle, giggling. He stops in his tracks when he hears a low, male laugh accompany her own. 

“What’s wrong, Mike?” Sam asks from somewhere off to his right.

“Go get the other ingredients, Sammy. I’ll meet you back here.” Michael mumbles, distracted.

Sam, God love him, takes the bait and slips away to the next aisle, leaving Michael to pick up his pace as he walks down the narrow passage between the shelves. When Michael turns the corner, he freezes at the mouth of the lane, eyes widening when he sees a familiar shock of bleach blond hair midway down the aisle. He almost drops the flour in surprise.

David is standing off to the side of a lofty, sandy haired man, who is laughing and carrying on with Michael’s mom. The blond doesn't seem to have noticed Michael yet, looking bored and so out of place in the brightly colored supermarket, his all black attire a stark contrast to the cereal boxes behind him. Michael must've made a noise, because Lucy looks over from where she's standing  _ way  _ too close to the tall man.

“Oh, Michael! Come say hello to Max and his son David!” His mother obviously doesn't pick up on Michael's distress, even when he comes closer to the small group. When Michael can see the older man up close, he quickly realizes that Max is the video store owner from the boardwalk. The same man that kicked him and Paul his first night out on the pier. The same man that looked at Michael with such disdain and hate, just because he was seen with the rocker hooligan. 

Did his mother say that Max was Daivd’s  _ dad _ ? 

Didn’t David say he doesn’t  _ have _ parents?

Max smiles, holding his hand out for Michael to shake, “Michael. Such a striking name for a boy your age.” When Michael shakes his hand, the man grins even wider, “Strong for your age, too.”

Michael smiles, uneasily, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He can feel David boring holes into the side of his head, as he tries to look anywhere but at the blond. He doesn't even want to turn his head to acknowledge the other teen, knowing his mother will see right through him by the way he looks at David. 

His mother has other plans.

“Oh, Michael, Max’s son is hard of hearing just like your other friend! Maybe he could help you with your ASL? I know you've been studying so hard on it,” Lucy says, her teeth glinting from ear to ear. 

Michael is so glad David is deaf, right now.

“I’ve got it covered, mom,” Michael grits out through his fake grin. 

Lucy is already back to flirting with David’s dad, giggling at everything the man says. Michael feels a horrible rock drop into the pit of his stomach. She can  **not** be looking for someone else so close to the divorce being finalized. Michael has the overwhelming want to punch this man’s teeth in.

Michael takes the advantage of his mother being distracted to turn his head to David, jutting his chin off to the side to tell him to follow him to the end of the aisle. David looks like he wants to run away. Michael’s ready to catch him if he tries.

Once they get to the end of the aisle, and Michael turns to David, he notices the blond’s unease. Michael doesn't know if he should be glad that the other boy is nervous or if he should take pity on him and not be too harsh. He decides on a little of both. David better be thankful that he’s attractive. He fixes the shorter teen with a glare and signs to him a little angrily, thankful he spent so much time studying last night. He just wishes this situation had gone differently.

_ “I thought you said you didn’t have parents?”  _ Michael frowns when David hesitates to sign back.  _ “Well? Are you going to explain who that is?”  _ Michael subtly jutts his thumb in the direction of the video store owner. He hates being lied to, it's happened to him way too many times and if he can help it, it won't happen again.

David frowns, his hands are now signing so fast to explain himself, that Michael can barely keep up.  _ “He’s my stepfather.” _ And why does Michael feel like that's just another lie? He huffs and guesses he’ll indulge David, if only to find out more about the teen.

_ “That’s still a parent, David. Why didn’t you just tell me you had a stepdad? Why did you lie to me? I thought we were friends.” _ Michael’s heart breaks a little at David’s expression to his last remark. He instantly wants to take it back.

_ “We are friends, Michael,” _ Davids starts, his face earnest. He’s even mouthing the words, somewhat, while signing,  _ “I’m sorry I lied, but I thought you’d understand the concept of not wanting to accept someone as family.”  _ His eyes dart over to where Max is still a little too close to Lucy, sighing, he continues on while meeting Michael’s gaze head on,  _ “I hope you’ll forgive-” _

Michael stops him from signing anymore of that sentence, taking Daivd’s chilly hands into his. He  _ does  _ understand not wanting someone to call themselves his father. He understands it all too much. Michael looks down at their conjoined hands, once again wondering why David’s are so cold to the touch, but throws that right out of his mind. There are more important things to attend to.

Michael shakes his head, slowly. “I’m not mad at you.” He whispers the words, knowing David won't be able to hear his voice, but hoping he can get his point across. He also likes the feeling of David’s hands in his and doesn't want to let go. “I understand.” Just like that, all of his anger at being lied to deflates. He sees Daivd’s eyes change from a deep, despairing shade of blue, to his usual bright, sky shade, even getting a smile out of the whole ordeal.

“Are you boys done chatting?” a deep voice comes from behind Michael, startling him into jumping forward into David, who catches him easily. They both pull away from each other instantly, like a kid getting their hand caught in the cookie jar. Max stands there, his face a careful neutral at first glance. Michael knows better, has seen the look in Max’s eyes from his own father a million times. He doesn't like seeing the look directed at himself, and seeing it aimed at David at the moment, flares anger deep within his belly. “Are you ready to go, David?”

The bastard didn’t even sign to make it easier for David to understand.

David doesn't meet his stepfather's eyes, but he does glare holes in the floor of the supermarket. He nods his head minutely, letting Max know he comprehended him. Max slowly, like a snake, turns his attention to Michael, smiling sickeningly sweet.

“Good to meet you, Michael. I’ll see you some other time, yes?” 

Michael doesn't answer, only watches as Max turns his glare back to the blond boy, who huffs and leaves without another word.

“I hope to see you when I pick your mother up toight.” Max smirks, knowingly, at Michael. He winks, reminding Michael of a villain from that old mafia movie that he used to watch as a child. Michael internally growls at the man as he watches him exit the store. Michael freezes when the man is out of sight.

Wait.

Did Max say what Michael thinks he said?

Michael hurries over to his mother. “Please tell me you didn’t just get a date with that bastard.” His eyes are probably frantic, if the look on his mothers face is anything to go by. Lucy widens her eyes, a vexed expression crossing her face. She opens her mouth a couple of times like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Language, Michael. Max is a nice man. He owns that video store on the boardwalk. He’s very trustworthy.” Her hands are on her hips, reminding Michael of when he screwed up in school and flunked a grade. He holds his ground, about to tell her how the man kicked him out of his store, how absolutely evil Max looked when he ushered them out.

Michael’s brain is going two million miles a minute. He can’t tell his mother about Max kicking him and Paul out of the store, because it would lead to him having to explain how wild his new friends are. Then he would have to eventually explain that the deaf  _ girl _ is a deaf  _ boy,  _ and how Michael has  _ feelings  _ for said deaf boy. There’s no way they'd be invited to the house anymore. They wouldn't even be able to come over Saturday, and as much as Michael was dreading it, he really wants it to happen now. Even if it's just to get David away from his dad. 

Long story short, all of this would end Michael’s life.

“Sorry, mom,” is all he says, faking a miserable frown, so the conversation doesn’t go to how he was talking to David not only ten feet away. To how their hands had touched for too long.

Lucy stares at Michael for a few long, considering moments, then sighs, “It’s okay, I understand that the divorce and the move has been hard on you. Just give him a chance, okay? I promise, the first red flag that pops up? I’m not staying, I know how men are.” She gives Michael a small resigned tilt of her lips, that doesn't match the rest of her face.

“Hey!” Michael pushes her shoulder lightly, forcing a weak chuckle.

“I got the ingredients, guys!” Sam says as he rounds the corner, an armful of cake ingredients and other snacks. He throws them in the cart in front of Lucy, giving her one of his award winning smiles, the one that always gets him what he wants. Michael’s never mastered that art.

“What’s all this? I thought I said get cake ingredients, not the whole store.” But Lucy is smiling back at Sam, already knowing she’s going to cave. She rolls her eyes fondly, “Let’s go check out before we spend more money.” She giggles and starts to push the buggy toward the front of the store. 

Michael’s mind is still racing. His plan from before is turning to shit faster than he can manage. His mom wasn’t supposed to meet David before Saturday, and she definitely wasn’t supposed to get a fucking date with Daivd’s  _ dad. _

Michael groans. This can’t get any worse.

\--------------------------------------------------

Michael dedicates the rest of the week to studying the ASL book. He still keeps it hidden under his pillow at night and when he’s out of the house, not wanting his mom or, god forbid, his brother asking questions about where he got it. Sam has always had a sixth sense about being able to tell when Michael is lying, says it’s something about the twitch of his eyebrow. Michael doesn't feel like this is the time to test his little brother's ability.

Lucy's date had thankfully been cancelled, but moved to the following Friday. Michael wishes he could have seen the disappointment on Max’s face when Lucy called to tell him she had prior plans. He does not want that walking, talking shit sucker to be anywhere near his mother. By the way David had acted around Max, Michael knows he doesn't want anything to do with the man. All he truly wants is to get David away from that situation. Maybe he can convince his grandpa that he doesn’t  _ really  _ need his taxidermy room, and they could turn the macabre thing into a nice little place for David to stay.

At least until he gets tired of Michael, like everyone else does.

Saturday morning, Michael wakes up a little earlier than normal. He hasn’t been back to the boardwalk since last weekend, when he had asked the boys if they would come over for dinner. He hasn’t heard back from them, but how could he? Michael doesn’t have a phone number to reach any of them by. They said they’d be here, but what if something came up? He really doesn’t feel like his heart can take much more this week.

He stretches out along his bed, groaning when his back pops pleasantly. Michael lolls his head to look over at the clock on his bedside table, groaning aloud once again when he sees just how early he’s awoken. At least Sam will be asleep another two to three more hours and won’t annoy him during his very early morning breakfast.

Michael pulls on some sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt, and heads down to raid the fridge. He doesn’t expect his grandpa to be walking out of the kitchen when he reaches the foot of the stairs, holding a package of Oreos to his chest like a lifeline. They both startle a bit at seeing one another.

“Whoa, put a shirt on before you poke someone’s eye out, boy,” his grandfather chuckles, before heading back into his taxidermy room, leaving Michael to cross his arms over his chest and mumble out a quiet “sorry.”

Once the door to the death shack is closed, Michael meanders in the direction of the kitchen’s fridge, hoping to snag a root beer before his grandpa comes back. He’s not at all surprised when he finds his mother at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping a mug of coffee. After he pops the top of his scored soda, he slides into the seat across from her, a small smile on his lips as he pulls the paper down so he can see her face.

“Morning, honey.” Lucy grins at him so sweetly, even though he was aiming to annoy her. “Are you excited for later today?” She looks back down at the paper, murmuring, “All these missing people… nothing has changed around here..”

Michael sighs, “Look, mom, about my friends coming over–.” 

“You didn’t tell me that David was one of the boys in your group of friends, Michael! Max had to tell me. It’s going to be wonderful, having all of them over like one big family!” She looks so happy, happier than he’s seen her in a long time.

Michael forces a pinched smile, “Yeah, it’ll be fun, mom.” He takes a sip of root beer. What he really wants to do is to warn her she’s headed down the same path with Max that she did with Steve. He wants to ask her if she could adopt David, even if it’s not on any legal documentation. He just doesn’t want David to go through the same shit he had. Instead he says, “Just don’t be disappointed if they don’t show up.”

He wants to tell his mom that his crush is on a  _ boy _ .

His mother only smiles at him, “Max said David would be here for sure. Says that it’s all his sons been looking forward to.” She sighs happily and starts to fold up the paper, “Oh! Maybe we should rent some movies, make some pallets on the living room floor? We could have a big ole sleepover!”

Michael pales, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, mom!” When she wrinkles a thin eyebrow at him, he stammers to come up with an excuse, “I-I think they all go to church on Sundays. Wouldn’t want them to sleep in and miss that!” He chuckles nervously.

“Oh! No, I wouldn't want them to miss that. Alright, just dinner then!” Lucy stands and makes her way over to the freezer to grab the burger and let it sit out to defrost. “I’m so happy you’ve made friends, Michael. I hope you realize how proud I am of you.”

“I’m gonna go get a shower, mom.” He really doesn’t want to talk about how Lucy  _ thinks _ she’s proud of her son, and doesn't want to acknowledge that it’ll dissipate when she finds out the truth later today. At least she has Sam to still be proud of. Sam has always made straight A’s and always studies. Always is the perfect son.

“Okay, honey! Don’t use all the hot water this time!” Lucy says distractedly, as she preps for cooking the feast Michael knows she’s over planned for.

——————————-

Michael should not be this nervous.

His palms should not be sweating just because some friends are coming over for dinner, and his leg should  _ definitely  _ not be jumping as he sits on the couch, staring at the door. He feels like he’s waiting for something to happen, like a werewolf to claw and burst through the doorway, and tear Michael to pieces. He can practically feel his heart in his throat. Max had called earlier and said they'd be a few minutes late, his voice having the same vicious lilt that Steve had when he was about to go awol on someone. Michael hadn’t been fooled for a second, he knew Max was pissed about something; sounded dangerous. Lucy, on the other hand, had just nodded against the phone and told him it would be fine, that they’d wait up on them. Did that mean Max was going to stay through dinner? Would Michael be able to hold his tongue if Max said something rude to his mother? Could he hold himself back if Max said something off hand about David?

Michael hears them before they even knock on the door. They’re voices are muffled, but Michael can make out Marko and Paul slapping each other and carrying on.

“Ow! Shit, Paul, that hurt!” 

“Stop being such a pussy, I barely bit you.”

“You two shut the hell up! Stop biting each other and act like you don’t live in a cave.”

Michael has to smile at the way Dwayne, once again, sounds like a disappointed parent to the two energetic blonds. When he hears a few rambunctious knocks, he waits a few moments before walking to the door, not wanting to seem too eager. As the old, wooden door creaks open, Michael quickly realizes that David isn’t there.

“Where’s David?” Michael looks around Dwayne, trying to make sure he didn’t miss him.

Paul frowns, suddenly serious. “He’s riding with Max.”

“Yeah, had some errands to run or some shit.” Dwayne doesn’t seem too happy about it either, crossing his arms over his chest. “Should be here soon, though.”

Lucy’s voice flows through the living room from the kitchen, “That’s no problem, boys! The bread is still in the oven, so we can wait on him!” His mother’s bright face pops out from behind the corner, “Sit wherever you like, I’m sure they’ll be here soon! Come on in!”

That’s all the other boys need to hear. Michael watches in amusement as Marko and Paul fight over who gets to sit in the fluffy recliner. Marko eventually loses and is banished to sit on the sofa with Dwayne, who finds a magazine and flips it open to read. Michael plops down on the small loveseat that faces the couch, taking a deep breath, thinking to himself. 

_ This is really happening. _

“Where’s the TV, Mikey?” Paul asks, propping his feet up on the automon in front of the plush recliner. He looks around as if the television will magically appear at any moment, actually digs in the recliner cushions to try and find the remote. When his hand comes up empty, he frowns, his eyebrows coming together in the middle, “What kind of house doesn’t have a TV?” 

“My house.” Grandpa’s grumble filters through the living room from his room of death, “Don’t need a TV when I have the TV guide.” Michael glances over at his grandfather just as the old man sends the other boys a curious frown. “You boys hang around the boardwalk a lot?” The older man looks peculiar, like he already knows the answer. Michael idly wonders how his grandpa would know that, since he never goes to town.

“Yes, sir. We’re around there a whole lot,” Dwayne says.

“Wait, so there’s no TV?” Paul’s frown looks devastated.

“Shut up, Paulie, can’t you see the adults are talking?” Marko smirks as Paul realizes he can’t hit him from how far away he is.

Grandpa ignores the blonds in favor of speaking to Dwayne, “Yeah… people around there don’t mess with ya, hm? They stay away from ya?” His grumble is curious, lilting up at the ends of his questions. His frown is deep, the crows feet around his eyes dark as he narrows them to a slit.

Dwayne seems to pick up on the old man’s demeanor. “People stay away, yeah. I guess it's the way we dress and act, but they don’t need to worry, we’re harmless.” Dwayne smirks at Michael’s grandfather, as if daring him to disagree. Sensing a fight in the near future, Michael peeps up from his place on the loveseat, but only gets out an eloquent “uh” before he hears a low rumble of a growl to his left.

Nanook stands in his battle position, ready to pounce on anyone that makes the mistake of moving at the moment. His eyes flit around between the three newcomers, his beautiful orbs barely recognizable as he snaps at the nearest boy. Paul jumps minutely, moving over in the large recliner, but otherwise doesn’t move. Michael whips his head to look at grandpa, to see if the old man will do anything for the situation, but it seems that he’s decided to watch the display like some kind of football game.

Lucy, hearing the loud commotion, pokes her head back into the room. She gasps, “Samuel Emerson, get down here and make Nanook behave right now!” No sooner than the words have left her lips, Sam’s clunking footsteps can be heard hurrying down the stairs.

Sam catches Nanook’s collar right before his jaws can clamp down on Paul’s arm, but that doesn’t stop the malamute from snarling and snapping at the other boys.

“Put him outside Sam. I don’t think he likes Michael’s friends too much.” Grandpa doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about having to put the dog outback on the leash; Michael guesses it’s because he likes the dog more than the teens that have infiltrated his house. When Sam has dragged Nanook out the backdoor and grandpa has left mumbling something about the widow Johnson, Michael feels like he can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about all that guys. Nanook isn’t usually like that, he’s actually pretty chill most of the time.” Michael rubs the back of his head awkwardly as he tries to explain. “Sam’ll make sure he’s leashed while you're all here, so don’t worry about being mauled or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mikey! I wasn’t even scared!” Paul crows, leaning back in the recliner as if nothing has happened.

“I call bullshit, you totally flinched.” Marko rolls his eyes at his friend’s aloofness.

“Screw you, Marko.” 

Dwayne let’s out a put upon sigh, “Really, Michael, it’s no problem. Max has a dog that’s way more intense than Nanook. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been bit by that stupid animal.” He tries to give Michael a reassuring smile, but it just looks wrong on him. Michael gives him his own smile that feels just as weird on his face. He wants this to go over nicely, wants to actually have friends that like him. He tries to start a conversation with them, thankful that his family isn’t there to witness his awful attempt.

“You said David was riding over with Max because he had some errands to run. Why didn’t David just ride his bike over instead?” Michael wants to slap himself for asking about David again, but he’s curious. Why didn’t the blond teen just ride his bike so when he was done with the errands, he could just cruise on over to the house?

A silent conversation that Michael’s not in on floats about the other three boys. It lasts a while, their eyes giving away nothing as they glance back and forth at each other. Michael’s about to change the subject, when Marko of all people speaks up suddenly. His voice is carefully devoid of emotion and is quiet so the other people in the kitchen won’t overhear.

“Listen, Mike, Max is…a little overbearing sometimes. Well, more like a lot and all the time, especially on David, since he’s his son.” He says the last part like it’s an afterthought, which seems off to Michael. “Max is a real asshole, Mike, and it’s best to just stay away from him. I mean, he thinks his own kid is worthless just because he can’t hear like me and you.” Marko looks to the door like he heard something, but Michael’s almost certain that nothing made a noise. The curly haired blond’s eyes dart back to Michael’s. “Don’t let your mom make the same mistake twice, yeah?”

Before Michael can comment on anything that Marko said, there’s a neat little knock on the door that makes Michael’s stomach do a flip. He almost trips over the rug as he hurries over to it. He can feel his hand tremble as he unlocks the doorknob, can hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears as his breathing picks up the slightest bit. The door creaks open to reveal David standing in the threshold with Max’s hand gripping the teens shoulder, a little too harshly if you ask Michael. The mullet wearing boy looks straight down at the bottom of the doorway, as if in a trance.

“Ah, Michael,” the tall man starts with a smirk, “David would like to thank you for inviting him and his friends over tonight. Isn’t that right, David?” He shakes the blond slightly, bringing him out of his haze. David looks up at Max with his brilliant blue eyes. “We had this talk before, David, you need to answer when spoken to.”

Michael wants nothing more than to tell this guy off.

David’s eyes dart back over to Michael’s as he licks his dry looking lips, quickly signing “thank you” to the brunet. Michael turns his gaze on Max, his eyes narrowing to slits, “Come in, David.” He doesn’t get to say much else, because Max instantly pushes David into his arms harshly, an inhuman growl passing the older man’s lips.

“Make sure you’re on your best behavior, son.” The last word is spit with so much venom, Michael wanders if Max was a snake in a past life. He doesn’t wait on an answer from the bleach blond, turns on his heel and walks back to his car.

Michael hopes that his car gets a flat. Preferably while he’s driving down the interstate on a rainy day.

David jerks away from Michael like he’s on fire. Not meeting the taller boy's eyes, he stalks into the living room where he’s met with a chorus of loud greetings and laughter. Michael slowly closes the door and thinks, “ _ Was David limping?”  _ But when he turns to see if his thoughts are 

correct, his mother chimes in cheerfully.

“Oh, is that David?” There’s the ever present smile in her voice as she walks into the living room. “Let’s eat boys! I made enough for everyone!” She claps her hands together happily. Michael loves seeing her happy, doesn't want to ruin it by telling her that her boyfriend is a total asshole.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow when David doesn't even look at him when he follows the other guys into the kitchen. It almost seems like he's trying to avoid Michael. Actually, he's sure David is steering clear of Michael when the blond sits at the far end of the table beside Dwayne and across from Michael’s mom. Michael gets the pleasure of sitting between Marko and Paul, who obviously like to punch each other behind the brunet’s back, occasionally catching Michael up in the play fight. He pushes Paul’s leg off of his lap when the crazy blond swings it over Michael’s legs, chuckling just a little when he pouts overdramatically. 

Everyone looks to Lucy when she sways over to the table with a giant pan of delicious smelling food, the steam curling up from the tray like a blessing while she hums to herself pleasantly. Michael’s grin falters when he sees the other boys around the table look at the food like they’ve never seen chicken parmesan before, like they’ve never had a mother to cook for them and show affection toward them. He feels a sharp pang in his chest that he identifies as sympathy, especially when Marko seems to lean into Lucy’s hand when she passes by the curly haired teen.

They deserve so much better.

When the food starts being passed around, Michael chances a glance down the table at David. He instantly regrets his decision when he finds the other boy already looking at him. They both look away at the same time, like stupid little kids. Michael huffs, tired of acting like a teenager in middle school, crushing on the cute girl in school. Well, at least this is different, considering David would probably maim him if he were to call him girly. He’s not saying David  _ wouldn't _ look good in a skirt he’s just… David in a skirt. That’s something to think about.

Michael is so caught up in thinking about David dressed like a sexy school girl that he doesn’t notice that Paul is poking him harshly in the shoulder until the rocker pinches his upper arm.

“Ow! Shit, man!”

“Michael. Language.” Lucy sits in front of David, a coveted seat, Michael thinks.

“Yeah, Mikey, my virgin ears can’t take this sacrilege!” Marko always having to throw his two cents in, hugs an arm around Michael’s shoulders, grinning like a shark. “Where are your manners, Mister Emerson?”

Michael decides to play along, mustering up his best English accent, “Oh, Mister Emerson is my grandfather, please, call me Michael.” The table erupts into laughter. Sam even giggles a bit at the horrible joke, but when Michael looks down the table again at David, the bleach blond’s eyes hold a sadness and pain that Michael doesn’t understand. He tries to smile reassuringly at David, but only gets a tightening of shoulders and a turned head thrown back at him. 

_ “What did I do wrong? Was it the way I looked at his dad?”  _ Michael hates himself for the unknown reason why David is now avoiding him. He always messes shit up, always somehow pushing people away when he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Michael chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes widening a fraction. “ _ What if he thinks I’m flirting with Marko? Shit, I don’t want him to think that. Shit, shit, shit…”  _ Michael starts to panic. He can feel his heart rate start to pick up, said organ feels as if it might just beat out of his chest. Both Marko and Paul turn their heads toward him, worried expressions on both their faces. Dwayne’s calm voice pipes up from the other side of Paul.

“This food is delicious, Miss Emerson.” 

For some reason the other boy's voice soothes Michael’s nerves to the point where he can breathe again. He smiles at the blonds sitting beside him, hoping his grin implies that he’s okay. He doesn’t want to discuss his feelings right now, especially his feelings about David.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice that Dwayne is signing to David, letting the blond in on the conversation. Michael watches as David signs back to Dwayne tentatively.

Dwayne smiles at Lucy, handsome as ever. “David said that he’d like to learn how to cook, if you’re willing to teach him.” Michael idly wonders how Dwayne became so suave. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. 

“Oh, it would be an honor, sweetie! Anytime you want to come by, I would love to teach you!” She signs only a few words, but David still seems to understand the gist of what she’s saying. He nods his head and smiles warmly, the smile odd as he’s usually smirking coldly. “Don’t hesitate to call, too!” She looks at Dwayne before standing up and heading to the fridge. “I’ll write our number down before you leave!” Lucy comes back to the table carrying a three tier German chocolate cake.

To say that Paul and Marko’s mouths are watering would be an understatement. 

“Oh, I have to have the first slice.” Marko says, slapping Paul’s hand away from the small cake plates so he can grab one for himself. The curly haired blond smirks and sticks his tongue out at the rocker, causing Paul to slap the plate out of Marko’s hand. “Hey! Don’t be mad that I can eat cake without gaining a pound and you can’t!” 

“You’re such a bastard.” Paul pouts as he slaps Marko on the shoulder. 

“Language, boys. Everyone can get a piece. I made enough for everybody.” Lucy places the cake on the table, hurrying to start slicing it up for the hungry boys. She hums to herself, a tune that Michael recognizes as the oldie they were listening to when they entered Santa Carla. A sudden movement by the kitchen entrance makes Michael glance up. 

Grandpa stands by the door to the kitchen, hand resting on the door jam, looking at the other boys with a grim expression. Michael blinks at the older man, a small line between his eyebrows as he wonders why his grandfather looks so contemplative. Before he can express his concerns, grandpa moves away from the doorway to head toward his taxidermy room. Michael watches the man leave, making a note to speak to him later.

Michael’s attention gets ripped away from the death room’s door when Marko decides to poke him a little too harshly with his fork. 

“You’re grandpa is a weird one, ain’t he?” Marko smirks as he shoves another giant bite of cake into his mouth. “What does he stuff in there?” he inquires with his mouth full, keeping his eyes on the door to the taxidermy room.

“You’re mom,” Paul retorts.

“Sorry, Paulie, but he’s too busy stuffing yours.” Marko laughs as Paul glares and flicks a piece of cake at him from the other side of Michael. Michael can’t help but laugh as well when the bit of cake hits Marko in the forehead. “Ow! You’re so immature, Paul!” Marko prepares to flick his own piece of cake at Paul, but is stopped by Lucy.

“Hold on there, boyo!” she giggles. “No more of that! I put too much work into that dessert for you to go to war with it.” Lucy sighs happily, surprising Michael. He thought she would be appalled by the boy’s behavior, but she seems to be the exact opposite. Michael sends her a tentative smile, which she returns in full. Something almost tells him that everything is going to be alright.

Michael tries to be discrete as he glances down the table to look at David again. The blond seems to be holding himself different, more straight in the back, like he’s strained himself. Michael sighs, throwing caution to the wind and taps the table to grab David’s attention. He quickly signs to him, asking if he’s okay.

David hesitates before signing back. “Yeah, fell down a couple of stairs.” Another pregnant pause before his hands lift from the table. “I’ll be fine.” David smirks at Michael’s minute nod, but it disappears as quickly as it came.

“I guess you boys should be getting home,” Lucy says as she stands. “Remember you all are always welcome here and don’t hesitate to call!” She’s all smiles when she hands Dwayne the small, ripped piece of paper with their phone number scribbled on it. “I really enjoyed-” 

The doorbell rings.

Lucy’s brow furrows in confusion as she checks the time on the clock. “Who could that be at this time of night?” She hesitates before moving to get the door, like she knows who it might be and she doesn't want to see whoever is on the other side.

Michael’s stomach drops.

He’s suspected this would happen, just didn’t know when. He really wishes it wouldn’t happen now. Michael shoots out of his seat, the chair making an obnoxious scratch against the linoleum. “I got it, mom.” He makes sure to move in front of his mother, mumbling a short apology when he accidentally pushes against her.

The rest of the boys look confused at the weird display and move to stand.

“Just stay in here, guys. This won’t take long.” Michael calls back to them on his way into the living room. 

“Michael, just let me-”

Michael turns to her, concern written all over his face. “It’s okay, mom. I told you I would protect you, and I’m not going back on it now.” He takes her hands into his just as the loud beating on the door starts. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” Before she can make any remarks, he takes a deep breath, readying himself for the inevitable. Michael turns back to the old wooden door that looks as if it might wiggle off the hinges with the hard punches to the other side of it. He opens the door, making sure to keep his face as neutral as he can.

“Hey, dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo...a cliffhanger? From me? Never!

**Author's Note:**

> Just the beginning, friends!
> 
> Come yell at me about gay vampires at https://screamingheads.tumblr.com/


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